


The Nature of Mating

by Strange_Soulmates



Series: The Dragon's Mate [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Best Friends, Courtship, Dragons, M/M, Possessive Behavior, Sequel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-10-30
Packaged: 2019-06-30 19:51:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 22,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15758541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Strange_Soulmates/pseuds/Strange_Soulmates
Summary: Ron and Hermione have spent the last year searching for their missing friend, Harry Potter.  Just when they think they have finally found an answer, they're swept away themselves.Harry Potter is tired of waiting for Tom to finish making a move, and is determined to take the last steps of their courtship himself if that's what it takes.Voldemort?  Voldemort just wishes his little pest had better taste in treasure.Sequel to More Precious than Rubies





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So, I started writing part two of the Epilogue to MPtR, and it quickly spiraled out of control. To keep you all from scrolling for hours, I decided to break it up into a fic of it's own. It should be about four or so chapters long and update once a week until it's finished.
> 
> I hope it was worth the wait!

Ron and Hermione had been on the road for months, searching for any sign of their wayward friend.  Ron had grown used to the soreness in his legs, the aching of his back.  He would have walked from one end of the earth to the other if it meant there was even a chance of finding Harry again.  Harry was his best mate, and Ron would do whatever it took to get him back. 

Hermione stood beside him, taking every step with the same determined set to her jaw.  Ron was glad of the company.  He loved Hermione, in new and evolving ways.  One day, he hoped that she would make him her husband.  They took comfort in each other, in their feelings.  But every time he looked at her, all he could see was the empty space between them where Harry should have been.

There was no time for romance.  Not yet.  They had a best friend to rescue.

After yet another long day of traveling, they'd reached a tavern.  Hermione and Ron made an effort to frequent every tavern and alehouse they ran across.  These were where the stories gathered, where the tales of adventurer's feats and magical might made their home.  It was here, Ron was certain, that they would find their answer.

Hermione was busy with the bartender while Ron had made himself at home in the corner.  The bartenders were always more willing to flirt with a pretty girl than they were to talk to a traveler.  Oh, they'd talk to Ron and tell him what he wanted to know, but it always took more coin than they could afford to spend to make them talkative.  If they ran out of money, that meant they needed to waste time on doing magical odd jobs until they could make ends meet again.  In the end, having Hermione do it was just sound strategy.

Ron tugged gently on the small stud in his left ear, feeding it just enough of his magic to activate the enchantment within.  It had been the twins' design, and a gift to Ron when he told them that he was leaving and he wouldn't be returning until he'd found Harry.  The twins' response had been to give him a number of magical items for both him and Hermione, as well as a huge amount of gold.

"Go find him," Fred had said, his jaw clenched.  "You do whatever it takes to bring him home."

"Whatever you need," George had said when he hugged him goodbye.  "Whatever you need, you let us know.  We'll get it to you.  Just...stay safe.  Stay safe and bring him back."

Ron had nodded, his eyes burning.  Harry was family.  Harry was family to all of them,  And the Weasleys took care of their own.

Fred and George sent them money from time to time to ensure that he and Hermione could continue their search.  The twins kept their funds from running completely dry.  But it was the magical artifacts they created that were the most useful in the hunt for Harry.

The spell in the earring flared to life, and Ron allowed himself a small smile.  Focusing on the table nearest the door while pretending to be buried in his cups, he slowly began working his way around the tavern, the enchantment allowing him to hear anyone he focused on as clearly as if they were sitting beside him.

It was the stories he needed.  No matter how random they seemed, there was always the hope of finding some hint of Harry buried in even the most fantastic of tales.

So Ron closed his eyes, and he listened.

"Have you heard?" a bearded man near the fireplace asked.  "The story of the dragonslayer?"

That had Ron jerking upright.  There hadn't been a dragonslayer in nearly seventy years.  The story of the last one had been told over and over and over again.  The tale of a young noble who had been captured by a terrible dragon.  A Slytherin, according to the rumors.  One of the last.  The dragon had stolen him while he was out riding one day, and his family had never heard from him again.  They'd recruited countless knights, offered a handsome reward for any information about their son or the dragon who had taken him, but there had been no word.

Until one day, in the small hamlet of Little Hangleton, a stupid lad went to investigate a local cave.  Inside, a man and a dragon had been found dead.  He rushed home to tell the hamlet the story, and one of the villagers recognized the description.  One of the dreaded Slytherins.  Dead.  And the man sounded like the young lord who had gone missing nearly half a decade before.

They stormed the cave, and found things just as the boy had described.  The great beast, dead.  The young lord, standing in front of the dragon, dead as well.  He had died defeating her, but in doing so, he had removed the scourge that had plagued them for so many years.  The king had rewarded his family handsomely for the sacrifice their son had made, and there was a statue in Little Hangleton.  At least there had been.  While Little Hangleton had still stood.

Everyone knew the story of the last dragonslayer, the one who had sacrificed himself to save others.  It was a tale told often at festivals and sung about by players.  There was no reason for the man by the fire to bring it up in such reverent tones.

The man's companions agreed with Ron.

"That old story!" they scoffed.  "Everyone knows that story.  It's just a shame that Lord Hangleton didn't know about the egg, or we'd be free of the Slytherins once and for all!"

"We are," the man said.  "We are free.  The last Slytherin has been killed."

The words came just in time with a lull in conversation, and the entire pub froze.  Every head in the tavern turned towards the man, Ron included.  The last Slytherin...that was...that was certainly something worth talking about.

"You're pulling my leg," one of the men by the fireplace said.  "There's no way.  Everyone would have heard of it by now if it was true."

"When was the last time you heard about Voldemort attacking someone, hmm?" the bearded man demanded.  "That monster's never gone quiet this long!  He's dead, I tell you!"

"Who killed him?" a woman asked, skeptical.  "If he's dead, then who killed him?"

The bearded man shrugged.  "No one knows.  Just that he's dead."

The woman rolled her eyes and scoffed.

"As if anyone would slay a dragon and then keep it a secret.  No, that devil's sleeping, I'll bet you.  They do that, sometimes.  Take a decade or two and just rest.  He'll be back soon, mark my words."

Everyone went back to their conversations, but Ron stared down at his cup in deep thought.  He didn't think Voldemort was dead.  The woman was right.  If anyone had managed that, they would have cried it from the rooftops, been showered with gold, their name exalted.  The dragon was still alive and well.  Ron was sure of it.

It was the story of Lord Hangleton that had him so deep in thought.  The man had disappeared without a trace.  No one had known what had happened to him, had been able to find him by any means magical or mundane, until the body was found.

Ron pushed back from the table, leaving his cup where it was, making his way over to where Hermione stood, attempting to flirt with the barkeep with an uncomfortable expression on her face.  Ron, too excited to bother to pretend to be polite, reached out and grabbed her shoulder, spinning him so that she faced him.

"Ron?" Hermione said, a confused expression on her face.

"A dragon, Hermione!" he said, unable to contain the feelings coursing through him.  "A dragon!"

Ron watched her confusion morph into understanding, and didn't bother to fight the smile on his face.  He couldn't.  After so long searching they finally,  _finally_  had an answer.

"A dragon!" Hermione all but shouted, an answering grin stretching across her face.  "Of course!  Why didn't I think of it before!  That would explain everything, wouldn't it?"

Ron's smile fell of his face as the enormity of exactly what they were saying caught up with him.

A dragon. If they were right, Harry had been taken by a dragon.

Ron swore.

Hermione reached out and took his hand in her own, squeezing it in reassurance.

"We'll get him back, Ron," she said, her eyes fierce with determination.  "We will."

Ron forced himself to smile at her.

'I'm not worried," he said with confidence he didn't feel.  "Knowing Harry, he'll just rescue himself.  Even if he'd guarded by a dragon, he'll find a way out.  That's just who he is."

Hermione laughed, and Ron felt his smile turn to something genuine.

"He'd have it wrapped around his little finger!" Hermione said, still chuckling.  “Made the dragon fall helplessly in love with him."

Ron guffawed at that.  The idea of some giant, fearsome beast following Harry around with a smitten expression in its slitted eyes was just the thing he needed to cheer himself up.

“All without even realizing it,” Ron said.  "That's just how Harry is."

Hermione shook her head, a smile still on her face.

"That boy.  So astute about some things, but so oblivious about others," she said with a grin.  "Do you remember that time with the Veela..."

They spent the rest of the night reminiscing about the people who had had the misfortune to fall in love with their best friend.

The laughter did them both good.  It was a good distraction from the knot in his stomach.  A dragon.  He and Hermione would have to defeat a dragon to get Harry back.

Still, the shivers running down his spine weren't fear.  At least not entirely.  They were anticipation.  Finally.  At last.  After months and months and searching without hearing a word of Harry, they had a lead.

Ron would get Harry back.  No matter what it took.

\------

"I'm sorry," Ron said, staring into an unfamiliar face.  "What did you just say?"

They'd spent four days on horseback, traveling to Camelot.  It was the city with the largest magical library, and Hermione was determined to research anything and everything about dragons before they pursued Harry in earnest.  As soon as they'd arrived, she had disappeared into the vast library, leaving Ron to secure them lodgings.  As soon as he'd found and inn that didn't have too exorbitant a price, he'd made his way to the messenger station he'd seen while he'd been searching.  Charlie was the foremost expert in dragons, and Ron wasn't just saying that because the man was his brother.  If anyone knew anything useful, it would be Charlie.

Out of habit, more than anything else, Ron had asked the woman behind the counter if she'd heard any news about a man named Harry Potter.

Ron hadn't expected any sort of response, so when the woman's face had lit up, and he responded immediately with an "Of course!" Ron had understandably been caught a little wrong footed.

"You're talking about Harry Potter, aren't you?" the woman Ron had struck up a conversation with asked, turning to face him with a guileless expression. "The man that escaped from a dragon?"  


Months.  _Months_ of searching.  Just a few months short of a year.  Exhausting every magical tracking option they could think of, talking to everyone they ran into, receiving only shrugs in response.  Traveling for days on end, covering what felt like the entire continent on foot.

"He...escaped," Ron said slowly, not quite understanding the words.  "From a dragon."

The woman nodded eagerly, face alight with delight.

"You mean to tell me you haven't heard the story?" the woman behind the counter said.

Ron slowly shook his head.  It was all the prompting the woman needed to launch into the tale of the Harry Potter, a Sorcerer so strong that he had released himself from an enchantment designed to hold a dragon.  So compassionate that where others saw a savage beast, he saw only a fellow prisoner. A dragon, who, once released, did not turn on Potter.  The dragon Voldemort.

"The only person to ever come face to face with Voldemort and survive," she said reverently.  "The boy who lived."

Oh.  Oh, Harry would  _hate_  that.

Ron, fighting to keep a straight face, managed to ask another question.

"Did you hear where he was headed?" Ron asked.

"Back home, to his family," the woman said, a dreamy look on her face.  "What a good son."

Ron wanted to argue with her, but couldn't.  There was a reason Harry was Mum's favorite.

"Where was it?" Ron asked.  "That the dragon was keeping him.  Where was that?"

"Tiny little town in the middle of nowhere called Riverdale," the woman gossiped happily.  "There was an old, abandoned castle less than half a day's walk from the edge of town.  That's where the dragon was keeping him trapped."

A map of the realm was hung on the wall, so that customers could indicate where their messages were to be sent and the person behind the desk could figure out how much they should charge.  The woman pointed to it, and Ron grinned.  Fred and George.  Harry would be heading to Fred and George.

"Now," the woman said, turning make to him, "where were you wanting to send your message."

"I've changed my mind," Ron told her.  The message wasn't needed now, after all. Harry had dealt with the dragon himself.  "Still, as thanks for your trouble..."

Ron reached into his pouch and pulled out about twice what the delivery would have cost, placing it on the counter.  The woman's eyes widened and Ron offered her a smile and a wave on his way out of the shop while she stuttered out her thanks.

As soon as Ron left the shop, laughter escaped his lips, a relieved, giddy thing that he could not have contained even if he wanted to.  Harry was alive.  _Harry was alive._   Harry was  _alive,_ alive and on his way to Fred and George, on his way back home.

Harry was alive, and he was coming home.

Ron ran to the library as fast as his legs could carry him, his vision blurry, laughter escaping his throat until he could laugh no more. When he finally stopped, tears were still running down his face, his throat was raw, and his sides ached, though he had no idea whether it was from laughter or his sprint through the streets of Camelot.  Regardless, he stopped outside the library, knowing he was in no condition to enter at the moment.  Only once he had cleaned his face with his handkerchief and taken a few moments to catch his breath did Ron make his way inside.

Looking for Hermione in a library was always like looking for a needle in a haystack.  Looking for Hermione in a library as big as Camelot's was like looking for a needle in three haystacks.    Normally, it was the kind of thing that would have driven Ron insane.  But not today.   Today Ron couldn't be anything but elated.

He was something of an expert at tracking spells at this point, and Ron cast one while thinking about Hermione by rote.  He got several dirty looks for it, but  he ignored them all.   It was bad manners to cast magic in a library, especially a magical one like Camelot's, but Ron didn't care.  He took off up the stairs, making his way towards the direction his magic was tugging him.

Hermione was at one of the tables in the heart of the shelves, surrounded by books that nearly blocked her from view.  If it hadn't been for the familiar bushy hair and the tugg of the tracking spell, Ron would have walked right by her, none the wiser.

As soon as he saw her, he broke into a run.  A number of people glared at him, but he didn't care.  This news was too important to wait even a moment to share.

"Hermione!" he shouted.

She turned around to glare at him, but one look at his face and she stopped.

"Ron?" she asked, her voice tentative.

Too afraid to hope.  He was familiar with the story.

This time, though.  This time, after more than a year of searching, it was finally safe.  Safe to hope. Safe to celebrate.

"Harry's alright," Ron told her, reaching out to grab both her shoulders.  "He's alright, Mione."

She stood up at once, books forgotten.

"How..." she trailed off when she was all the dirty looks they were getting.  Instead she grapped his hand.  "Come on," she said.

They left the library at a walk just short of a run, and the moment they were outside on the busy streets of Camelot, she rounded on him.

"Tell me," she ordered him.  "Tell me everything."

Ron did, faithfully repeating the story he had heard in the messenger's office.

"He's alright," Ron finished, a wide smile on his face.  "He's alright, Hermione.  At Fred and George's, if I had to guess."

Hermione's eyes were wet, and she darted forward, wrapping her arms around him tightly.  Ron held her close, running a hand up and down her back.

"That idiot," Hermione muttered.  "It's just like him too.  Drive us crazy with worry, and then rescue himself."

Ron laughed, his own vision more than a little blurred.

"That's Harry Potter for you," he said.

"Excuse me," a voice said, breaking through the bubble of relief and happiness that surrounded the two of them.  "Did you say Harry Potter?"

Ron looked up, taking in the stranger in front of them.  Wealthy.   Obscenely so, based on his clothes and the sheer number of jewels that adorned him.  Handsome, yes, but something about him had all Ron's hairs standing on end.  Dangerous.  This man was dangerous, and Ron wanted his attention elsewhere as soon as possible.

Hermione clearly didn't see what he saw, if her reaction was anything to go by.

"Yes!" she said, excitedly, wiping at her face. "Do you know him?"

The man didn't answer, examining them both with shrewd eyes.

"You two," he informed them at last, "have complicated my life a great deal."

The words were ominous, sending chills down Ron's spine, and he called upon his magic, determined to defend the two of them. It didn't nothing to stop the man before them.  He waved his hands, dark eyes suddenly blood red, and Ron felt as if he were frozen solid.  No matter how hard he tried to move, his body would not respond.  A glance out of the corner of his eye let him know that Hermione had suffered the same fate.

The man turned around and began walking to the edge of town, and to his horror Ron's feet began to move without any input from him.  Staring at the cloaked figure in front of them in horror, Ron fought.   This stranger had them in thrall, completely under his control.  And no matter how he struggled, Ron could not break the enchantment.  All he could do was watch in horror as he trailed obediently after his captor like a servant.  They followed him all the way out of town, over to a somewhat secluded copse of trees.

Ron wondered, somewhat hysterically, if this was going to be the place he died.

The man turned to him, eyes glowing red, a wide smile on his face that revealed sharp teeth.  His skin rippled, and a moment later a massive figure burst into existence where only a man had stood before.

A dragon.  A massive black dragon, with sharp teeth as long as Ron's forearm.  The blood-red eyes were filled with malice as he glared at the two of them.

Ron had no doubts anymore.  This would be the place he died.

The monster reared up onto his hind legs, his front paws reaching forward, gathering the two of them between his massive claws.  There was a loud snap, and a moment later the sound of flapping began to fill the air.  The dragon lurched beneath them, and wind began to stream between it's claws.

Paralyzed as he was, there was nothing Ron could do but sit there and wait for whatever fate the dragon had in mind for them.


	2. Chapter 2

Hermione had no idea how long they remained in the sky, but it was cold above the clouds. Ron clutched her close and wrapped them both in his warm cloak, but still it was not enough. Hermione had to warm them both with her magic to keep the sheer cold that bit at their fingers and ears from taking all feeling from them forever.

They didn't speak. The clutched each other close in the darkness, staring at each other's faces. With a trembling hand, Hermione reached out and pulled Ron towards her, pressed a kiss to his lips. He kissed her back, clumsy and endearingly eager, and Hermione closed her eyes and fought the urge to cry, trying not to mourn all the years together, the life together, that the dragon was stealing from them.

It was short and brief. A glimpse of all the things that could have been that would not be. Ron leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead once they had parted before he pulled her even closer.

It was a comfort. At least, in spite of the rest of it, they would be together.

After what felt like hours, the wind stopped rushing between the beast's talons, the only sound that of the great wings snapping through the air.

Hermione abruptly fell forward, Ron's hand at her waist and her own hand braced against the dragon's scales the only things that kept her from falling on her face.

Landing. They were landing.

Hermione's hand was sweaty where it was crushed against Ron's, holding each other so tight it was almost painful. Her heart pounded in her chest so loudly she could barely think, the only sound she could hear beyond the rushing in her ears. Her legs trembled, but she did her best to keep her footing firm on the scales. She would face death on her feet.

As soon as she had made the resolution, everything around her shook violently, and Hermione could feel it's jarring in her teeth as she tumbled onto the scaled palms beneath her.

Through the ringing in her ears, Hermione could almost swear that she heard a familiar voice.

But it vanished fast enough for her to be certain it was wishful thinking, replaced with loud rumbling voice

"...found a gift for you. One I know you will be pleased with."

Before Hermione had a chance to try and make sense of these new facts the world shifted beneath her and she fell into the air.

Hermione screamed, the sound streaming past her ears as she fell through the air. Sheer terror overrode everything else, her eyes unable to focus, her brain unable to form thoughts as she fell through nothingness.

And then, sooner than it had begun, it was over. Her hands and knees connected with the rough rock beneath her, a painful jarring passing through her entire body.

She was alive.

She turned to find Ron beside her, his face pale enough that it brought his freckles into stark relief. He was staring at her, his blue eyes blow wide, and she could see her own terror reflected there. Still, he reached out and wrapped his hand around hers.

Palms bleeding, Hermione clutched his hand as tightly as she could.

"Ron?" A familiar voice said, cutting through her terror like nothing else could have. "Hermione?"

Hermione jerked her head upright, convinced that it was somehow a trick. That her mind, in what might very well be her last moments, was granting her what she wanted more than anything.

Harry. Harry. He was there. Standing in front of them, an expression on his face that Hermione was certain was mirrored on her own.

She pushed herself upright, staring in shock.

His hair was longer, his clothes were different. There was some unfamiliar light in his eyes. But he was there. Hermione pulled herself to her feet as quickly as she could, sprinting to close the distance between them, only to stop short just in front of him.

She reached out, tentatively, towards his skin. Terrified that her hand would pass through when she tried to touch him.

He beamed down at her, his face more open than she had ever seen. Reaching down, he wrapped his arms around her.

Solid. Warm.

Real.

"Hecate, Hermione, I've missed you," he said, clutching her close.

That was all it took. Hermione reached out and threw her arms around him, pulling him as close as she could. All the fear, the uncertainty. Terrified that she had somehow lost her first and dearest friend.

It was only when she had to work to suck in a breath that she realized she was crying.  Not just crying, but sobbing.  

 

She didn’t care.God, she didn’t care. A year of searching tirelessly, of fighting.Doubts creeping in at the corners of her mind, the fear she couldn’t speak that they would never find Harry again, or if they did it would be only a headstone that greeted them.Months of working herself to exhaustion, of fighting just to make it through another day.All of it was worth it for this moment.

 

Then Ron was there, wrapping them both in his long, strong arms, and Hermione felt her body shake, trembling beyond her control.But she didn’t care.It didn’t matter.They were together, the three of them.Finally. _Finally_.She was saying something, but her own words were incomprehensible, Ron’s elated shouts just as unintelligible beside her.

 

Time stopped and started all at once, the three of them reunited.It could have been a moment or an hour later that the three of them sank to the floor, wrapped around each other.

 

The ground rumbled beneath them, and Hermione looked up, eyes wide. In her elation, she had forgotten the dragon.

Facts Hermione hadn't even known she was accumulating came into focus and began neatly sorting themselves. Harry had been captured by a dragon. According to some of the stories, both dragon and human had been captive and Harry had freed them from the enchantment. She and Ron had joked that the dragon would have become attached, but in this moment it wasn't funny. After all, dragons were known to hoard humans. The dragon adding Harry to his hoard perfectly reasonable. And, she realized, taking a moment to glance around them, this certainly seemed like a dragon's hoard. The cave was vast, the light reflecting off piles of precious gems and metals.

A dragon had added Harry to his hoard.

Hermione turned to Ron and found him grim-faced, his jaw clenched and his hand fisted tightly in the expensive material of Harry's clothes. He met her gaze and nodded.

If they had to fight a dragon to get their best friend back, then they would fight a dragon.

Ron took a half-step forward, but before he could get any further Harry gently pulled himself away, stepping forward until he stood between them and the dragon.

"Harry!" Ron shouted, and Hermione let out her own wordless cry.

Of course he would stand between them and the dragon. Where else could Harry, with his desire to save everyone else at the expense of himself, stand?

The dragon leaned down until it's enormous head was level with Harry, terrifying red eyes peering down at them, a sharp horn meant to rip skin to shreds only a hairsbreadth from his torso.

"Thank you," Harry said, his voice full of emotion. "Tom, you don't even know what this means to me."

Then Harry threw himself forward and wrapped his arms around the snout of the dragon, only just avoiding the terrifying horn.

There was a sharp whoosh of displaced air, a flash of light so bright Hermione had to turn her head away. She blinked to clear the dots that littered her vision, and when she could finally make out what was in front of her, she couldn't help but gasp.

The same man from the market stood before her, though there was no sign of his ornate and expensive clothing. He was completely bare as he clutched Harry tightly in his grasp, kissing him possessively.

Hermione turned away, her face red. When she saw Ron staring, slack jawed, she elbowed him harshly in the side.

"Ow!" He said. "Hermione, what was that for?"

"Give them some privacy," Hermione hissed at him.

"He's...he's...the dragon, Hermione! We have to do something!"

She rolled her eyes.

"For Circe's sake, Ron," Hermione said with a roll of her eyes. "Harry is clearly exactly where he wants to be."

Ron turned back to the two of them, his ears red but his eyes narrowed.

"You're sure?" Ron said. "You're sure Harry wants this?"

Hermione felt her heart soften as she was reminded once again why she had fallen in love with this man.

"Yes, Ron," she said, recalling the unfamiliar shine to Harry's face, glancing quickly over to find that same happiness practically radiating off of him. "I'm sure."

He nodded his head once.

"Right then," he said.

Then he coughed, and looked away, the red from his ears spreading to stain his cheeks.

"I know, dearest" the dragon murmured when he pulled away, his red eyes shining with emotion that even Hermione could see. "You made it clear in our time together exactly which of your treasures you valued most."

He cast a critical eye over Ron and Hermione, and she found herself straightening, suddenly aware of her threadbare and stained clothes. She raised her head and pulled back her shoulders, giving the dragon a sharp look.

"Are you certain that these are the humans you want?" he asked, still eyeing them with obvious disapproval. "The boy is too gangly, covered in freckles, and his hair is the wrong shade of red to be interesting.  He's a wizard of decent power, I suppose, but there's nothing  _truly_  impressive or remarkable about him."

Ron gaped beside her, his face flush with anger.

The dragon ignored him and continued.

"The girl's hair is too bushy, and her magic isn't any more impressive than the boys.  Pretty enough, I suppose, but no great beauty."

The dragon turned back to Harry.

"I could find you much better humans," he said earnestly.

Hermione bristled, and beside her she heard Ron give an offended "Hey!"

But then Harry laughed. Deep and true, his head thrown back, his entire face alight. He turned a smile like nothing Hermione had ever seen before on the dragon.

"There aren't better ones," Harry said firmly. "These are the best humans there are."

The dragon gave Harry a look that made it clear he strongly disagreed, butknew better than to say anything.

"You are pleased then?" the dragon asked, reaching forward to brush Harry's fringe back from his face.

"Beyond pleased," Harry said, beaming up at the dragon before leaning up to press a kiss to his lips. "Tom...this...this is the best gift you've ever given me."

The dragon claimed his mouth at that, and Hermione actually had to turn around, doing her best not to hear when Harry let out the sort of sound she'd never wanted to hear from the man who was like a brother to her.

Ron did the same, somehow even redder than before, the blush clashing terribly with his hair.

Hermione was distressed to discover that she found it to be absolutely adorable.

"Thank you," Harry said again, and there was one last sound of kisses being exchanged. "Now, why don't you put on some clothes so that I can introduce you properly."

"Humans," the dragon said with a snort. "This modesty is ridiculous, you know."

"So you've said," Harry replied, and Hermione could hear the smile in his voice.

There was the sound of rustling fabric and then Harry called out to them.

"Ron, Hermione? There's someone I want to introduce you to."

Hermione turned around, part of her hesitant. She wasn't exactly certain what she was going to see.

The dragon was fully clothed now, wearing the same outfit he had been when they had run into him in Camelot. Only this time his eyes were a blazing red, and his teeth were bared in something that looked more like a threat than a smile.

Only the way Harry looked wrapped up in his embrace kept her from being truly afraid.

"This is Tom," Harry said, staring up at the man with open adoration as he rested his hand against the dragon's human chest. "My fiancé."

Hermione just stared at him, fighting the urge to gape. That Harry wasn't a prisoner as she had first feared upon finding him in a dragon's hoard was obvious, yes. A Harry who was trapped would never have been so content. That he and the dragon were ... close...was also obvious. But fiancé?

Hermione didn't know what to think, what to say.

Ron had no such trouble.

"Only you, Harry," Ron said, shaking his head.

A moment later he burst into laughter, a slightly hysterical edge to it.

"I said it, didn't I?" Ron said, his voice alarmingly high. "I told you. As soon as I found out about the dragon. Harry was going to end up with it wrapped around his little finger. Rescue himself and wind up with a dragon mooning after him."

Ron let out another laugh, but this one was more relieved than anything else.

The dragon raised an eyebrow at Ron before turning his attention back to Harry.

"Perhaps the boy isn't completely useless after all.

Harry just rolled his eyes, but there was a wide grin on his face.

"How...Harry, how...?"

Hermione couldn't gather her thoughts enough to finish a sentence. It wasn't something she was used to, and she found that she didn't enjoy it. She grasped desperately for some frame of reference to use to approach the situation, but there was nothing.

Harry smiled gently at her.

"Come on. Let's grab a seat. We have a lot to talk about."

* * *

Hermione couldn't sleep. It was as if her brain was making up for having spent most of the afternoon frozen, thoughts whirling through her head so fast she had barely grasped one before the next took its place.

Hermione had thought that when they finally found Harry, their troubles would be over. Instead it seemed that they were barely beginning.

She and Ron had known, of course. That something had happened to Harry.Harry never would have vanished like that. Never would have left without them unless he had no choice. Hermione had been quietly preparing herself for a confrontation for months, both she and Ron dueling each other and any passerby who would agree regularly in order to keep their skills sharp. 

Still, a part of her had hoped that once they had found him, it would all be over.That finding Harry would be the end of their quest, not the beginning.

She had expected a fight.She hadn't expected a fight with a man who could trap a dragon.

Heaving a sigh, Hermione sat up.There would be no sleep tonight.Not anytime soon, at any rate.

She made her way carefully out of the bed that the dragon had provided for her.It was almost a shame.It was the most comfortable thing she'd ever lain on.But perhaps the comfort was to blame.After so long on the road, Hermione was unaccustomed to much besides the ground.A bed stuffed with feathers was beyond her imagining.

She walked her way carefully across the room, being sure not to disturb Ron as she walked past him.Part of her was terrified as she passed among the treasures, that somehow she would disrupt something that would get her killed slowly and painfully.After all, they were in a dragon's hoard.The heart of the hoard, where only the most important things were kept.She picked her way carefully across the floor, being careful to avoid the gold and silver and gems strewn across the floor, more wealth than she could ever dream of tossed carelessly on the ground at her feet.

She made her way over to where her bag was kept and picked it up silently.There had been a study of sorts that she had spotted.One that had made it almost impossible for her to concentrate on anything else.It was huge, larger than almost any library Hermione had seen.Not only was it huge, it was filled with books with titles she had never heard of, each of which fascinated her.Magic, mathematics, philosophy, science, and countless other subjects were scattered across the shelves, organized by some system she did not understand.

It was only the fearsome dragon standing before her that had kept her from running to the books at once and losing herself in them.Even then, it had been a struggle.

Still, library itself had been well appointed with a table and several comfortable chairs.It would serve as the perfect place for Hermione to set up camp.

As she crept towards where the library was, she realized that the cave was growing brighter.It seemed that she wasn't the only one who couldn't sleep.

Sure enough, as she rounded a pile of treasure towards the clearing that made up the true heart of the dragon's hoard, she made out a familiar head of black hair at the table that was her destination, several balls of light glowing above his head.

Hermione hurried her way over as best she could, working as quickly as possible while keeping quiet.When she was halfway there her eyes suddenly adjusted and she froze.

The dark, giant mound beside her was notanother pile of treasure as she had first assumed.It was the dragon, his massive body sprawled across a distance that four cottages could easily have spanned.Hermione closed her eyes and fought down the fear that threatened to overwhelm her. Taking several deep breaths, she did her best to calm her racing heartbeat, every old wives tale about dragons ringing in her ears.They could hear a heartbeat at one hundred leagues.They could smell you at ten.And the second you encroached on their territory, they would kill you.Will kill you as soon as look at you.As easily as a cat would crush a mouse.

He hadn't eaten her yet, Hermione firmly reminded herself. If he were going to kill them for their presence in his hoard, he wouldn't have brought them here.If her heartbeat were to wake him, it would have done it before now.

Only when her pulse was no longer racing in her ears did Hermione begin to move once more, moving at a crawl. The thought of waking the beast from it's slumber paralyzed her on a primal level.Best to let it lie.

After what felt like endless minutes of tension, her bare foot finally landed on carpet rather than the stone floor of the cave, and Hermione heaved a sigh of relief.She was past the dragon now, at the very edge of the area she privately considered to be the library.

Harry, she could see, was hunched over a book, peering at it with a look of intense concentration she was familiar with after years of the three of them questing together.There was a problem.One that Harry was trying to solve.Research was apparently proving less fruitful than he had hoped, based on the expression on his face.

At her sigh, he lifted his head and smiled.He raised a hand and beckoned her over.

Hermione practically ran to him.It was still hard to believe that he was here, after searching for him so long.And while they had had the chance to see him yesterday, to hold him, to hear his voice for the first time in so long that the sound of it made her weep, the dragon had been there.Demanding Harry's attention, correcting his story.As fascinating as watching the two of them together had been, Hermione was eager to spend some time with Harry. Just Harry, before Ron or his dragon could monopolize him.

"Mione," Harry said with a smile."I should have known you'd come here at some point.Honestly, I'm surprised that you managed to stay away so long."

Hermione reached out and wrapped her arms around him, unable to help herself.She thought it would be quite some time before she was willing to pass by him without reassuring herself that he was real, that he was here.

She let him go sooner than she would have liked and sank down onto the wooden bench beside him, needing to be close more than she needed her own space.

"You're alright?" Hermione asked him gently as soon as she was settled."You really are?"

He smiled at her, something small and warm.

"I really am, Mione.I promise."

Hermione heaved out a sigh of relief, tension leaving her frame.She knew Harry.She did.And as she had reassured Ron, what they saw was genuine.Harry was obviously in love. In love and loved in turn, as strange as the situation was.But there had been a part of her that worried.A part of her that thought it might not be real, that Harry might be kept here against his will.

Looking at him now, those fears were finally laid to rest.

"What...what's it like?" Hermione asked."I mean, he's a dragon.How on earth does that even work?”

Harry laughed.

"Circe, you have no ideahow many times I asked myself the same question," he said with a grin.But the smile slowly faded as he looked down at the book in front of him.His expression was far more serious when he began to speak again.

"It happens," Harry said."Not often, but often enough that there are rules.A whole set of courtship rituals."

Hermione leaned forward, fascinated.

"Truly?"

“Hecate, yes."Harry said, rolling his eyes."And a right pain in the arse they are too."

Hermione smiled, unable to help herself.It was such a Harry thing to say.

"Tell me about them."

He did, and Hermione hung on his words.Harry had skipped this part of the story the night before.Well, glossed over large portions of it, at any rate.The bare bones she had known.But now Harry told her about his fears, his frustrations, his confusion during the entireprocess.

Hermione listened, rapt.It sounded like the sort of thing bards would be singing about for decades, if not centuries.Almost too perfect, to interesting to be real.But she knew harry.And this sounded like exactly the sort of thing that would happen to him.

"What finally changed your mind?" Hermione asked him.

"I didn't change my mind," Harry said gently."I made up my mind.And I just..." he looked over his shoulder, the same soppy smile as before on his face, "I can't imagine my life without him.I want to wake up with him every day, to work together and learn together and fight together.To spend every night curled up with him.I...Hermione, I want to make a family with him.I want our children to have his eyes.Want him to be the father of my children."

"That's possible?" Hermione asked, eyes wide."I mean, A dragon and a human can..."

She trialed off.There were stories, of course.Of creatures who lured men and women, of children who were both human and creature.But she had thought them just that.Stories.

Still, recalling the dragon's...recalling Voldemort's human form, it was a little easier to imagine how such a thing could come to be.

Harry nodded.

"Tom's father was human," Harry said.

Hermione lit up.

"Have you spoken to him?" she asked.

What a valuable resource!  Someone who could provide the ins and outs of exactly what it was like not only to be courted by a dragon, but to be mated to one as well.Perhaps Harry could introduce them after they had spoken? Hermione couldn’t help herself. Now that she knew, she had so many questions.

"No," Harry said, his face darkening.  "He's dead."

"I...of old age?" Hermione asked.

Harry shook his head.

"No.They, uh, their bond wasn't right," Harry said. "His mom took some shortcuts, and so when they tried to draw on it to, you know, make Tom, it snapped.Killed them both."

Hermione stared at him, trying to put the new facts into some kind of frame of reference that made sense.Apparently the bond was more than just a concept.

"The bond...what is it?"

"Magical exchange, basically," Harry answered."Like, in our case Tom and I share our magic.But since Tom's father wasn't any kind of magic user, his mother's magic basically had to do all of the work tying them together.It...basically the shortcuts she took when it came to courting him meant that the foundation wasn't strong enough.So it snapped."

Harry stared down at the table.

"I know he hasn't said it, but...I think on some level Tom blames himself.That since his being created snapped the bond, he must be responsible somehow."

Hermione filled the word "created" aside for further interrogation later.Now was not the time.There were clearly more important things to address here.

"He blames himself?" Hermione said gently, doing her best to prod Harry into speaking more.He was always so close-lipped about his own emotional needs.It was a trick to get him to tell her what was wrong without feeling like she was prying the information out against his will.

And there was something to talk about.The look on his face made that incredibly obvious.

"The first thing he saw when he hatched was his mother's dead body," Harry said."The second thing was his father's.He didn't know what had killed them until he finally met another dragon."

Hermione covered her mouth.She couldn't imagine the kind of trauma that would have caused.Only that it must have.

"God, that's...that's horrible Harry."

Harry said nothing, staring down at the paper in front of him.

"He...When I made the decision to accept his courtship, I was ready, Hermione.I was ready to be with him in every way possible.But I feel like we're just...we're stalled.Nothing's happening."

Hermione stayed silent for several long moments, waiting to see if Harry had anything else to say.When he didn't speak, she began to, choosing his words with care.

"You said Tom blames himself for his parent's deaths?" Hermione asked.

"I think so, yeah," Harry agreed.

"And that an improper bond killed them?" Hermione asked trying, lead Harry to connect the dots.

Apparently Harry had already connected them for himself.

"That's exactly the problem, yeah.He's too scared of losing me to do anything.But he's being ridiculous!His mother's magic had to do all the work in forging the connection between them.That's not at all the case for us!I mean, I don't think I'm doing as much work as he is, but I'm certainly not doing nothing!"

He was clearly on a roll now, venting.Hermione just sat back and let him.She would learn more this way than she would if she asked him questions.

"I mean, for god's sake, I can already feel him without trying! It takes effort not to at this point!I even get thoughts on occasion, and there are mated dragon pairs who never manage that much!I've been pouring literally everything I have into the bond for the past month!I get so exhausted that Tom notices and sends energy back to me, which only makes it stronger!I don't know what the hell it's going to take for him to finally admit that it's ready!"

At that Harry sat down, panting harshly.

"I just...I made my choice. It was hard, and it took time, but I decided.I'm ready for us to start living our life, and instead it feels like we're just...stuck."

Hermione wanted nothing more than to reach out and reassure Harry with a hug, but she knew that he wouldn't be open to that kind of reassurance.Not now.

So instead she did what she did best.She put on her problem solving hat.

"What would it take for you to get unstuck?" Hermione asked.

"Tom's instincts," Harry answered at once."I mean, with his more rational side he can more or less translate my human into what those cues would mean if I was a dragon.But his rational brain is like, missing the cues on purpose.And instincts beat them out almost every time.Honestly?If his instincts and what he really wanted were telling him the same thing, I know it would override the irrational bits."

"If you were a dragon and you were ready to mate with him, what would the next step be?”

"I would fly," Harry said with a shrug."I'd fly and I'd make him catch me. And when he did, we'd, you know, mate," Harry said, his face flushed bright red, "and we'd bite each other on the neck.Honestly? I think we could sleep together and it wouldn't make a difference without the bite."

"So what are you going to do?" Hermione asked."I mean, if you think the bond is that strong already, surely if the two of you were to...you know..."

Harry shook his head.

"I've thought about that, but Tom won't even kiss me for too long before he pulls away to calm himself down.I don't think I could get him into bed at this point."

Hermione frowned.Given the tension that was palpable between the two of them at any given moment, that was honestly shocking.

"Hmm," Hermione said, considering the problem."I mean, his senses are enhanced.If he was to walk in on you..." she blushed scarlet, unable to finish the sentence.

Harry laughed.

"I'm going a different route," Harry said.He turned the book in front of him so that it faced her.

Hermione peered at it anxiously, curious to see where Harry’s own thought process had taken him.

It was a book on enchantments. That much Hermione guessed from several familiar looking diagrams she spotted on one of the pages.  But then she saw the entry where Harry's finger rested and she smiled.

"A flying carpet," she said.  "That would work, yes." Then she glanced around them.

"I'm certain Voldemort has one here," she said.  "I mean, how could he not?  So why the research on how they are created?"

"I can't very well ask Tom where he keeps them," Harry pointed out, taking back the book.  "I don't want to risk him figuring out what I'm doing.  I don't want to give him a chance to try and talk himself out of it.  I need to take him by surprise.  But it doesn't matter.  I can't use a carpet."

"Why not?" Hermione asked, leaning forward.

"It isn't nearly fast enough or maneuverable enough in the air," Harry told her.  "If Tom's has to catch me, I'm going to make him work for it," Harry said with a grin.

He turned back to the books.

"No, I'm mostly interested in the enchantments.  I was talking to a bloke...god, I don't even remember where.  I think Tom and I spent more time making sure the story spread than actually traveling...anyway, he was from Germany, I think.  Told me that his sister had enchanted her broom.  It's apparently catching on."

Hermione grimaced.  Riding a broom?  It sounded so uncomfortable.

"So I'm just learning everything I can on flying enchantments, and then I'm going to give it a go," he said with a shrug.  He turned and gave her a smile.  "I could use a hand, though.  Know anyone who might be willing to help?"

Hermione grinned and reached out to take one of the books from the pile in front of him. Settling in beside Harry, a book in her hand - it felt like finally coming home.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Voldemort pouts and then deigns to play chess with Ron. We learn about the trio, and the plot thickens despite my best efforts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys should know that this chapter was a pain in the butt to get done on time, and thus has only received the most cursory of edits, but I kept my promise!

Voldemort sat sprawled in his den, surrounded by his treasures, his mate-to-be laughing the the corner, content and happy. 

It was providence that had brought Harry's greatest treasures to him.  It could be nothing else. 

All those months of his little pest fretting over his humans.  His disappointment every time the intruders on their territory turned out to be greedy strangers.  The sadness that had consumed him after every moment of false hope.  And Voldemort had simply found them walking through the middle of the street in Camelot.

There was no question that of all his hoard,  Harry valued these two humans most.  Their loss had made him miserable.  In finding them, Voldemort had one more proved himself a worthy mate.

Harry's happiness was Voldemort's greatest treasure.  After all their time together, Voldemort knew that nothing would make Harry happier than the gift of these two humans.  And he had been right.  The smile that split across his face was the most beautiful Voldemort had ever seen, his green eyes shining brightly with tears of happiness only making him more breathtaking.  If Voldemort could somehow freeze that expression, freeze this moment in time, he knew it would be the greatest treasure in his hoard save for Harry himself.

Everything was perfect.  Everything  _should_  have been perfect.  Yet still his tail thumped against the ground in agitation.

"Do you play chess?" a voice at his feet asked him.

Voldemort turned his great head away from where he had been studying Harry and the girl in his library, watching them as keenly as he could.Ever since their arrival, Harry had spent most of his time with her, and it was driving Voldemort mad.She was a mere mortal. One who wasn't even close to his pests level.If there was something he wished to know, why did he not come to Voldemort?

Knowledge was one of his most prized possessions.He prized himself on being the wisest in the land.Yet Harry chose this chit over him.Clearly he was not doing as much to prove his worth as he needed to.

The little nuance at his feet was distracting him, and Voldemort wouldn't have it.

He nearly blew out a gust of fire in frustration at having been interrupted, but stopped himself just in time.Harry would not be pleased if Voldemort destroyed one of the most precious pieces in his hoard, for all that Voldemort didn't understand the appeal at all.

"What?" he snapped. "Chess," Ron said."You play, don't you?"

"Of course I play," he said."What concern is it of yours?"

"Fancy a game?" Ron asked.

Voldemort snorted, letting smoke billow from his nostrils.He enjoyed a game of chess, it was true.But playing with this mortal wouldn't be a game.It would be a slaughter.He turned his attention back to Harry.

"So, you're scared then?" Ron asked."That I measly little human is going to beat you?I knew dragons were touchy, but this..."

Voldemort rounded on him and blew a stream of smoke right in his face.His pride wouldn't allow such an insult to pass unanswered.

"You wish a game, human?" Voldemort said."Then let us play. And we shall see who should be afraid of whom."

He shifted into human form and summoned one of his chess sets, conjuring clothes only after the red boy somehow managed to turn even redder.

The chess set was an intricate thing.Voldemort had had it commissioned while he was in China.The pieces were carefully carved from precious jade and delicate ivory, the board itself crafted of the same materials.The pieces, dragons all of them, roar angrily as he placed him on the board, shouting at the indignity of being handled by a mere human.

Ron raised an eyebrow at his pieces, and Voldemort found himself surprised.The boy barely seemed to have a grasp on English.Voldemort didn't think it possible that he knew the language the pieces spoke.

"You are familiar with Cantonese?" he asked the boy, curious in spite of himself.

"Circe, no," the boy said, shaking head."No.I'm just familiar with chess pieces."

He looked down at the pieces who were still outraged over being controlled by someone so unskilled and he grinned.

"They don't like me very much, do they?" he asked.

"They are used to be controlled by skilled players," Voldemort said, haughtily.

"I take it you haven't played with Harry, then?" the boy asked insolently.

Voldemort glared at him, his magic washing through him at the slightly against his intended.

"Harry is a brilliant sorcerer.More cunning and powerful than you could ever hope to be, wizard," he snarled.

"Yeah," the boy said, not even bothering to look afraid."Pretty brilliant at tactics too.But Hectate help him, he is absolutely pants at strategy."

Voldemort blinked at that, turning his head to try and better study the human before him.For all that he had done everything he could to ferret out and zealously hoard information about Harry, savoring every word that fell from his lips with a fanaticism that no doubt would have frightened his little pest if he'd been aware, this was new information.

He and Harry had never played chess.Their time together had always been occupied in other ways.Within the tour, on magical instruction.Without it on discovering exactly who had captured them and in finding Harry's nest mates.Then all their focus had been on finding and creating a den.

Harry felt like a part of him already.It was difficult to remember that he had not always been so.

There were parts of Harry he knew nothing about. Parts of Harry that this boy, as his nestmate, did know.Stories of Harry's past that Voldemort did not yet possess.Stories that this boy had.

Perhaps this would not be the waste of time he had feared.The chess game, he was certain, would prove no challenge.How could it?A mere human could not compete with a dragon.

But there was something worthwhile here.

"Is he?" Voldemort asked."In our conversations so far he seems quite competent."

The boy snorted.

"No, what you're talking about is tatics," Ron said gently."Harry's increidbly adaptable and there's no one else I'd rather have on my side in a fight. But he's not the bloke I want working out the overarching strategy of the war."

Voldemort gave him a long look as he considered his words.That much seemed to be true.It fit what he knew of Harry incredibly well.His little pest was good at offering ideas that seemed off the wall, but he was unable to see the larger picture.Perhaps that was why they had struggled so much in their search so far.That and they hadn't been looking very hard.

After all, it had bee Harry who had released them from their enchantment immediately rather than give the matter more careful consideration.

"He can be a tad reckless," Voldemort conceded.

Ron snorted.

"Do you know how many times that boy has nearly killed me?" Ron asked him."It's a miracle I'm still alive."

Voldemort found himself leaning forward, unable to help himself.Harry.Information about Harry there was nothing that he desired more.

"Tell me,” he ordered. 

"Tell you what?" the boy asked.

"Everything." Voldemort demanded.

"We were eleven when we first met," Ron said."My family had saved up everything they had to get me an apprenticeship.There were five other sons before me, so it wasn't easy.But they found me something with a shopkeep inHogsmede.Honestly, they mostly did it as a favor to my mum," Ron said.His face grew darker."Harry'd been sold to a baker next door.Figg, was the name I think.A nice enough woman, but she keptkneazles."Ron shuddered."So many kneazles."

"Still, it was his first time getting away from those...from them," he said, his face dark.

"Them?" Voldemort asked, the tip of his tail beginning to twitch back and forth.

"His relatives," Ron said with an angry scowl. 

At that Voldemort's tail thrashed harder.Harry had mentionedhis relatives in passing before.His expression had always been guarded, and there was always the faint taint of remembered pain in his scent when he did.

For all that his human had been fussy about keeping his friends safe, there had beed no words spoken about his family. In fact, when he mentioned family, it was always the Weasleys he spoke of But at the house he had smelled no relation between them, and he and Ron, who he had described as his brother, had no blood shared save the trace amounts that occurred between any two unrelated humans. Voldemort had not known enough of humans to know if it was strange at the time, but based on the face of the boy in front of him, it seemed that it might have been.

It was so easy to forget, that Harry was not human.His temperament, his magic - all of it screamed of a powerful predator.One who was Voldemort’s equal.

Had Voldemort not mourned his own family in his own way?Had he not laid waste to human settlements for years to punish them for what they had done?

Nestmates were important.As were those who raised you.Voldemort had had neither, so it never occurred to him to find their absence in Harry’s stories remarkable.He had a cousin, Voldemort knew, and an Aunt and Uncle.Yet he never mentioned them in more than a passing way.

Not like this annoyance in front of him.One Voldemort had heard more about than any other being in his time spent in Harry’s company.

“Decent woman.Treated Harry as well as she could, I reckon.Harry helped out in the bakery and helped with the kneazles a bit, though there was no lost between him an them.Liked baking though.At least I think he did.Still, hard not to like the thing that sets you free.Freer, anyway,” the boy said with a dark expression on his face.

“Sold” Voldemort remembered.The boy said that Harry had been “sold”.

But he was speaking again, now, and Voldemort had to reign in a growl of frustration.He would not hesitate to cut the whelp off under other circumstances. No matter his connection to Harry, Voldemort would not be forced into politeness when there was information to be had.

But that was exactly the issue.There was information to be had.On the most treasured subject Voldemort had ever encountered.

There would be another chance, Voldemort decided at last, directing one of his pieces forward.For now, he would listen.

“My apprenticeship was with a local bladesmith,” Ron said.“He put me in charge of buying the supplies, and that’s how Harry and I met.Got to the point where I was spending every free moment I had with him.My master wasn’t too pleased, but,” he shrugged, his gaze fixed on the board before he ordered on of his pieces forward.It ignored him, and with a roll of his eyes he reached forward and pushed it into place, ignoring it’s angry squawking, “it was worth the punishments.Once he realized it wasn’t effecting my work and that we got better bread than most, he stopped.”

“The kneazles are how we met Hermione,” the boy said.“She was fourteen and about to go to the convent to avoid a marriage her parents were insisting on.She got permission from the mother superior to pick a pet before she arrived.Choose a half-kneazle beast of a thing Figg had.”

The boy shook his head.

“I swear, the hardest part of being on the road for her has been being away from that monster.”

“The timing ended up being just right.I’d just finished my apprenticeship, and after we’d all dealt with the troll, Figg said Harry’s debt was paid.We stuck together after that.We were supposed to be taking Hermione to the Convent and then I was going to become a journeyman, but…” he shrugged.“Questing was more fun.And paid better too.”

When the boy stopped at last, Voldemort leapt at the chance to have his question answered, for all that there were a dozen more he still wanted to ask.

“Harry’s debt?” Voldemort asked, his voice low.

"He was born free," Ron said, as if it were that simple. "Not just free, but a landowner. The land went to the keeping of his Aunt after his parents died, as his mother's only relative. And for all that the land belonged to him, his uncle forced him to be a serf on it for years. Said Harry ‘sold’ the land to him and then had to work to earn his keep.Then when the debts started mounting, they sold his indenturement.”

Voldemort snorted, smoke streaming from his nostrils as he fought to keep his temper in check. No wonder Harry had chafed so at the restrictions placed upon them. he had no doubt been reliving his childhood, every moment they spent locked in that tower together.

Voldemort did his best to settle himself. Another perfect courting gift had landed in his lap, and he wasn't going to let himself be upset about it, no matter distasteful the nature of it was. It was not uncommon for dragons to lose pieces of their territory or their hoards to other, stronger dragons. The most noble courting gift of all, one that proved a dragon to be a worthy mate indeed, was to win back what had been lost for their beloved. A sign that they were more than strong enough to help protect everything that the dragon they hoarded held dear.

He could do the same for Harry, in returning the land of his forefathers to him. And perhaps in defeating his relatives, though he would need to be careful on that front. His little pest was alarmingly squeamish at the oddest times, and he would not want to risk offending him.

A grand gesture such as this was normally only attempted under one of two circumstances. To show a truly uncooperative dragon exactly what the courter had to offer. Or as a final display of power to prelude the mating.

Perhaps, after their, the bond would finally be strong enough. Strong enough that Voldemort could reach out and take what he had cherished for so long. Finally make harry truly and irrevocably his.

"Is Harry fond of his relatives?" Voldemort inquired as he moved his rook from one position to the next.

The boy snorted at him, shaking his head.

"You can't eat them," the boy told him. "Harry would be upset."

His expression grew dark, and for a moment Voldemort could swear he saw something almost draconic in his eyes.

"Besides, if he didn't mind having them killed, don't you think we would have done it already?" the boy asked, staring at him challengingly as he moved his knight.

Voldemort tilted his head to study the boy before him better. Not powerful, no. Not like Harry. No skills in any particular art, at least not so far as Voldemort had seen. But perhaps there was more to him than Voldemort had first suspected.

"You would kill for him?" Voldemort asked.

The boy gave him a look, and Voldemort found himself sniffing the air to reassure himself that the boy was in fact a human, for the expression in his eyes was pure dragon.

"I have killed for him," he said. "More than once. I would be happy to do it again. No matter who stood in my way."

Voldemort's lip curled back to expose his teeth in a silent snarl. The boys meaning was clear. Should Voldemort be found wanting in some way, this helpless, hapless, hairless being would not hesitate to try and cut him to pieces.

The boy held his stare, and there was no hint of fear in either his countenance or his smell. But then his lips turned up in a human expression of amusement.

"But you know what that's like, don't you?" Ron said, his gaze darting over to where Harry and the girl sat in the library, pouring over books together. "It's hard _not_ to care about him. And hey, I have to worry less now than I used to. Christ knows there isn't much trouble he could get himself into that you couldn't get him out of."

Ron's face grew serious as he considered the board in front of him, and Voldemort had to fight to keep his impatience from showing, for all that something had settled in him at the boy's last declaration. Voldemort had been judged and found worthy. For the moment, at least. The boy saw him as an ally, rather than an opponent.

Voldemort wondered if he had been hasty in placing this boy in the roll of treasure without considering the matter further.

"That's true isn't it?" Ron said again, clearly still absorbed in this thoughts. "No matter what trouble came his way, a dragon could protect him."

Voldemort's tail thrashed.As much as he wished otherwise, there was someone out there who could best him. Who had bested him. Someone who might try and take Harry from him again. It turned his stomach, to know that his future mate was not safe.

He would not rest until they had been dealt with.Until he was certain that his little pest would be safe from harm.

"Do you think that's why?" the boy asked, moving a pawn.

"Why what?" Voldemort snapped, the reminder of the threat that waited for them beyond these walls making him even more irritable than usual.

"Why he was taken. Why you were forced to guard him. To keep him safe."

Voldemort froze, turning the words over in his mind as he tried to find a way to slot them together.

To keep him safe. That had been the purpose of the enchantment, had it not? To force Voldemort to guard the castle and, more importantly, it's occupant. It was so contrary to his sensibilities as a dragon that he had discarded it almost at once. It made much more sense, after all, for someone to have been jealous of Harry's power. He was the strongest sorcerer Voldemort had ever met, as untrained at he was. Under Voldemort's tutelage, he had grown even more powerful, his magic blossoming into something beautiful and powerful. How could someone with ambition not fear him? Not try to ensure that he was not a threat? But why not simply kill him, then?

Voldemort stared at the human before him with new eyes. Not weak, as he had first assumed. No. His strength was not in magic, but in mind. Not in knowledge, but wisdom.

"Who?" he asked.

"That's the question, isn't it?" Ronald asked, shrugging his shoulders. "Who was willing to go to such lengths to keep Harry safe, but didn't care enough to speak to him? Who was strong enough to bind a dragon, but thought that the dragon would make better protection than they did?" His brow furrowed. "There's too many contradictions. I don't know what to make of them. That's not what worries me, though," Ronald said.

"What?" Voldemort asked, sliding a bishop forward, fighting the urge to roar through vocal cords not made for such an action.

"What is it that they were trying so desperately to protect him from in the first place?" Ronald asked.

Voldemort froze.

A threat.  A threat greater than whoever had trapped them.  One that was danger enough to force a strong magician to one of the most desperate acts Voldemort had ever seen.

Ronald reached forward and slid his queen across the board, springing a trap that Voldemort had not seen.

"Checkmate."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the delay guys! Don't worry, the next (and last!) chapter of this installment is already halfway done. Planning to post it on my birthday, the 23rd, along with some other stuff ;). For now, enjoy!
> 
> Lots of Ron/Hermione in this chapter, so if that isn't your cup of tea, I'll understand if you give this one a miss.

The fourth morning inside the dragon’s hoard, Hermione and Harry finally finished conferring over whatever the hell it was they’d had their heads bent over and broke apart, Hermione dashing to a different section of the bookshelves and grabbing a pile that was taller than she was.

Absentmindedly, Ron moved his rook, putting Voldemort in checkmate for the sixth time.Their games had grown longer as they’d gotten a better measure of each other’s skills, but one look at the man…dragon…whatever before him made it obvious that his heart wasn’t in it.

When he wasn’t brooding, eyes bled red, he was interrogating Ron mercilessly about everything he knew about Harry and his history.

Ron was grateful for it.Telling it to someone else gave him the chance to go over it for himself, running through all the adventures they’d gone on in the last three years.But there still wasn’t anything that felt like the right avenue to explore.

The answer was there.Ron was sure of it.He just couldn’t quite grasp it yet.

Voldemort let out a huff of dark smoke before he turned and walked away without a word.Now he was off brooding by what looked to be lake in the middle of the cave, staring into it, his tail twitching with irritation. Now that Ron was certain he wasn’t going to be roped into research, he made his way over to where Harry sat.

“What’re you working on?” he asked, taking a seat next to Harry.

“A flying broom,” Harry said.

Ron blinked.

“Why?”

“To ride.”

Ron thought about splinters in his arse, or worse, and winced.

“For Circe’s sake, why?” Ron said. “Just take a carpet.Or you know, ride your dragon.”

Harry snorted.

“I’m trying to,” he said slyly.

It took a minute for the words to process and then Ron burst into laughter, unable to help himself.

“Gods Nails, Harry!”

Then his curiosity got the better of him as he considered the matter further.

“How does it even work?I mean, with him and you.You know.”

“Well, if I was a dragon, I’d take off and make him chase me. And when he caught me, we’d…well…” Harry made a vague gesture that Ron interpreted easily.

“Like he’d pin you down, or…?” Ron trailed off, torn between genuine curiosity and not wanting to know anything about anything Harry might get up to.

Harry shrugged.

“I don’t really know. I just have Charlie’s notes to go off of, and they aren’t very explicit.”

Ron glanced down at the ream of pages at Harry’s elbow and he recognized the sloppy handwriting of his older brother.

“I reckon he just couldn’t get close enough to observe well,” Harry said with a shrug.“All of this takes place in the dragon's territory.And they get even crazier than usual when they’re courting.Honestly, I'm surprised that he even got as much as he did," Harry said with a frown.

"You know that he's going to be all over you, right?" Ron asked with a smile."Seriously.The next time he gets his hands on you, you're not going to be able leave until he has an entire monograph written."

Harry smiled, an edge of determination to it.

"I'll wait until the next time Tom pisses me off, and then we'll go as punishment."

Ron snorted.He would have been worried, but if one thing had become clear in the last few days he'd spent with a dragon picking his brain, it was that Harry had the beast wound round his finger. Tighter than even he knew, Ron was certain.There was nothing Voldemort wouldn't do to keep him happy.

"What did you do, by the way?" Harry asked him, jerking his head towards where Voldemort sat hunched over the pool, his tail dragging along the ground in agitation.

 _Woke him up_ ,Ron thought. _Made him realize exactly what was at stake.That there's an even bigger threat out there than he thinks there is_

"Beat him in chess," Ron said.

Harry worried enough.Always acting like the weight of the world was on his shoulders and his shoulders alone. It was time to let the rest of them carry it, for at least a little while.

"That would do it," Harry said, a fond smile on his face."God knows he's an arrogant bastard.To be beaten by a human?He'll be sulking for days."

Harry turned and gave him a smile.

"Thanks mate.That gives me time to get this finished," Harry said, holding up one of the many twigs that were gathered in front of him.

"You're really going to do this?Enchant a broom?" Ron said.

It was probably one of the daftest things he'd ever heard, but he could admit that he was more than a little curious.He'd never been on a flying carpet - the family didn't have the money for one, and the enchantment was a fairly closely guarded secret.But he had to admit that the idea ofit intrigued him.

"You've been flying, right?" Ron asked him."With you-know-who over there?"

Harry rolled his eyes at the moniker, but it didn't stop a smile from spreading across his face.

”What's it like?" Ron asked.

"It's...it's amazing," Harry answered, his green eyes practically glowing. "The world beneath you, nothing but the air around you, the sky before you..." he shook his head."I've never felt so free."

Ron did his best to imagine it, what it would be like.To have the earth fall away below your feet.To look in front of you and see nothing but blue.To look down and see nothing but specks below.

"Do you think this’ll be the same?” Ron asked him. “The same as flying with a dragon, I mean.”

Harry shook his head in answer, but he followed it up with a shrug.

“It’ll be closer than a flying carpet, at any rate,” Harry said.

"I just...I need enough time to really give his instincts time to take over," Harry said."Otherwise this is going to be over before it even starts."

Harry heaved a sigh and ran a hand through his hair, a frustrated look on his face.Apparently in more ways than one, if Ron was reading between the lines correctly.

Hectate help him, he couldn't believe this was what his life had come to.

"You're sure about this?" Ron asked, eyeing the dragon on the other side of the cavern."Really sure?"

Harry's answering glare was more than answer enough and Ron found his hands going up in surrender that was only partially feigned.

"Alright, alright!" he said, laughing a little. "I had to check.What kind of mate would I be if I didn't?"

Harry's eyes narrowed, and Ron had to stifle a laugh when he suddenly realized why the expression was so familiar.He'd been on the receiving end of a red-eyed version of it for the past four days.

"You..." Ron took a deep breath.Gods, why was this so uncomfortable?"You've always wanted a family..." Ron began cautiously.

"That hasn't changed," Harry said, staring down at the twig in front of him, studying it intently.Ron turned so that his eyes were fixed on a pile of treasure dozens of yards away, doing his best to pick out individual pieces of treasure.He wasn't certain he could get through the rest of this otherwise.

"You've talked about it?" Ron asked."With him?"

"We're not going to do anything to start one until we've dealt with whatever the hell got us both trapped in the first place," Harry said, which was answer enough.

"He's alright with raising human kids?" Ron asked."I mean, he's kind of..."

A giantspecieiest dick.He seemed to hate humans with a passion based on all comments he'd been muttering under his breath since he and Hermione had arrived.He'd put up with them for Harry's sake, yeah.Was starting to get to a point where he even tolerated them to some degree.But he didn't see them as people.He saw them as part of Harry's hoard.

"Kids need parents," Ron said at last."Not to be part of a collection."

"I wouldn't do that to a kid," Harry said."I wouldn't."

"I know, mate.But would he?" Ron asked gently.

He hated that he needed to ask these questions, that he had to poke at these wounds.He might not be as good at this sort of thing as Hermione, but he was better than she gave him credit for.Harry's happiness was important to him.Seriously important.He was closer to Harry than he was to most of his own brothers.He didn't think there was anything he wouldn't do for the man.

And if that meant pressing till it hurt now to prevent catastrophe later, then that's what he would do.

"Tom...Tom and I have more in common than just being trapped in a tower together," Harry said at last."I know that we're on the same page when it comes to family."

Ron just let that sit for a long moment.Harry's comment had been incredibly telling without violating the dragon's confidence.Which had been the point, Ron was willing to wager.Still, it told him that Harry knew what he was getting into.At least to some degree.It didn't mean Ron wasn't going to find a way to steer his next chess match with Voldemort towards the subject of children though.

"Our kids won't be human, anyway," Harry said, as an afterthought. "They'll be dragons."

That was more than Ron could take.He spun around to face Harry, a confused look on his face.

"How the hell does that work?" he asked."I mean, is he going to steal eggs or knock up another dragon or...?"

"They'll be ours," Harry said. "Both of ours.All true dragons are born of magic.Tom's dad was a human, you know.And he didn't have any magic at all. I think the two of us should be able to manage."

"Right," Ron said awkwardly."I mean, take your time and all that.Enjoy the honeymoon," he said, patting Harry awkwardly on the shoulder.

"How about you?" Harry asked, a mischievous glint in his eye."You and Hermione going to get started right away?"

Ron just gaped at him.He hadn't figured out how to broach the subject with Harry yet, too caught up in dealing with all of Harry's drama to bring up his own.

"Did she tell you?" Ron asked.

Harry rolled his eyes.

"She didn't need to. Honestly, the last ones to figure it out were the two of you.Drove me mental, watching the two of you dance around each other without knowing you were doing it."

"Then how..." Ron said.

"You're not dancing around each other anymore," Harry said with a shrug."You're in synch now."

"Huh," Ron said, his gaze straying to the table where Hermione sat, her head buried in a book, a blotch of ink on her face, a quill stuck into her wild hair to keep it up and out of the way.He was finding it very hard to resist the temptation to yank it down and run his fingers through it as he licked the ink away. Exactly like he had been for the last half hour

"You want a big family, right?" Harry asked him."Like yours."

"Not that big," Ron said, shaking his head."But yeah.I want my kids to have siblings. Not as many as I did, but some."

"You talked to her about it yet?" Harry asked.

Ron shook his head.

"Not really.Enough to know we're on the same page.But we were busy worrying about you.Too busy trying to track you down for romance."

But now that he knew Harry was safe and well taken care of that, wasn't true anymore.There wouldn't be anything stopping them while Harry's dragon had him secreted away.

“Sard,” Ron said, feeling faint."What the hell am I going to do?I'm pants at this sort of thing."

Harry laughed, which only made Ron sputter.

"I'm serious mate!I mean, I'm me! I'm me and she's her!What the hell does a girl like her see in a bloke like me?"

"Well," Harry said, sounding bored."You're incredibly loyal and you'll do anything for the people you care about.You're ambitious without being a prig.Braver than anyone else I know, just as brilliant as she is in your own way.You're all heart and care more deeply than anyone I know.Gee, Ronald.What on earth would a woman possibly want with a brave, loyal, loving man like you?"

Ron blushed a deep scarlet, his face on fire.

"If you're that worried about the whole wooing thing, you could always ask Tom," Harry said with a shrug."I mean, he got me to accept gifts I never would have in a million years from anyone else and actually like them.Besides," he said with a wicked smile. "It might do his pride some good to know that he's better than something at you.Might put an end to the great sulk."

Ron rolled his eyes but gave the notion serious thought.He and Hermione were going to have some time on their hands in between trying to hunt down answers.They were both on the same page, but that didn't mean that Ron could treat this as a sure thing. He needed to make sure Hermione knew how much she meant to him.

"Books," he muttered under his breath."Lots of books."

Harry snorted.

"Just promised not to get married without me, yeah?" Harry said, and for all that his tone was joking, there was something serious in his eyes.

Ron cuffed him upside the head. It was the only possible reaction to something so stupid.

"Of course we're not going to get married without you, you idiot.We'll wait until you can be there.It wouldn't be the same without you.We'll spend our time trying to figure out what the hell happened."Then he turned to Harry a frown on his face."Are you two going to get married?Or just the draconic stuff?"

Harry sighed.

"I want to," Harry said."I just... I don't know what Tom will think."

Ron laughed.

"He'llthink anything you want is a fantastic idea.Especially when it binds the two of you together that much tighter."

"That...that's really true, isn't it?" Harry said.

"That settles it then," Ron said."Hermione and I are going to be here.So, handfasting.You two do a handfasting ritual with us as witnesses and then we'll have Voldemort take us back so we can get to work and you two can have some time alone.That should give you enough of a lead, right?" Ron asked.

Harry just stared at him, brow furrowed.

"Enough of a lead to take off and give him a real chase," Ron said."You'll have a few hours head start."

Harry stared at him, a wide smile on his face.

"Yeah, yeah I think it should."

"So we wait until you're ready to go," Ron said with a shrug."And then we do this thing. "

"Sounds like a plan," Harry said with a grin.

They sat there in silence for a long time, Harry focused on his twigs before Ron finally asked the question that had been bothering him ever since he'd seen Voldemort turn human.

"So...changing shape.Is that something all dragons can do?"

Harry just nodded once, a twig hovering above his palm.

"So...what does that mean about Norbert, then?" Ron asked."Hagrid hatched him from an egg, after all."

Harry stared at him, a horrified look on his face.

* * *

 

Hermione was in heaven. Being here, in the hoard, was like every dream she'd ever had about living in a library, only somehow even better. It had been nearly two weeks, and she didn't think that she'd ever want to leave.

Ron, on the other hand, wasn't fairing nearly as well. He was currently sprawled on the part of the table that wasn't covered in Hermione's book, staring up at the ceiling, throwing a rock and catching it one-handed.To someone who didn't know him better, he might have appeared bored, as if he wasn't paying attention to anything or anyone.But Hermione had known him for seven years now, had worked with him through thick and thin, and she knew that the small furrow in the middle of his brow meant that he was deep in thought.

"I don't like this," he said at last."I really don't.Something isn't right."

"What?" Hermione asked.

"I don't know," he said."And that's the bit that's driving me mad."He sighed and threw the rock again."Harry's almost finished here, and I don't know what our next move should be after the wedding.I mean, other than seeing my mother.She'd skin me otherwise."

Hermione didn't miss the way his eyes darted to her for a moment before focusing on the rock once more, and the knowledge made her flush.She'd been to the Wesleay's many times before, thought of Ginerva as her own sister, loved the family as if it were her own.But this would be the first visit since things had changed between them.Since this unspoken thing had finally been spoken.

This would be her first visit to her future in-laws, as opposed to the home of a dear friend.

The thought left her equal parts exhilarated and terrified, as so much about this relationship had.

Hermione didn't know how long she'd been in love with Ron, was the maddeningthing.There was no single moment she could point to as being _the_ moment.The moment when she first began to love him.

At first, when they'd been eleven, she'd thought him a terrible prat.Their first meeting hadn't been auspicious, and Hermione had nearly died thanks to some of the hurtful words he had said.The troll had changed things, turned two strange boys into dearer friends than Hermione could ever have imagined.

She'd been wary of Ron at first.She was grateful for his help, and had forgiven him for the words he'd said, but she hadn't forgotten them.They'd been there, whispering in the back of her mind every night.A bossy know-it-all. That's what she was, after all.It was why her parents had tried to send her to the convent in the first place.There was no where else for her to go.After all, who would want to marry a bushy-haired opinionated brat of a girl?Not that Hermione wanted to get married, mind you. She was her own woman.Always had been.

Ron's words had hurt, because they had struck her where she was most vulnerable.They'd cut so deeply because Hermione was terrified that they might be true.

So she had forgiven Ron, but she couldn't quite bring herself to trust him.There was a camaraderie between them, but no affection.To Hermione, it seemed as if they were both there for Harry.He was the glue that held their group together.

And then they'd fallen into that dungeon by mistake, and everything had changed.Because Ron had sacrificed himself so the two of them might be safe, had reminded her of her magic, called her brilliant.And as she'd cradled his bleeding head, terrified that he would never wake again, she realized that she cared about him after all.

Perhaps that had been the start. The first moment when she had considered him a friend.Or maybe it had come later, in one of those many compliments, one of those arguments that she had to confess that she secretly enjoyed.All she knew was that one day when she was sixteen, she had looked at him, the way the sun caught his red hair, turning it broze and blazing like fire, the smile on his face, the breadth of his shoulders, the sparkling blue of his eyes, and had realized exactly how happy she was to see him.Far happier than she ever had been to see another friend.A different sort of happiness than seeing Harry after only a week apart.There was a giddiness, an edge of anticipation to it.

"Oh," she'd thought. _"Oh."_

Because she'd loved Ron for years, as a friend, as family, as a piece of herself.The same way she loved Harry.But at some point, when she hand't been paying attention, that love had deepened, gained new dimension.

This was the man she wanted to wake up beside, wanted to raise her children with.This man, who knew her, all her faults and flaws, and looked at her with admiration. This brave man who underestimated his own worth so much that there were days she just wanted to _shake_ him until he knew that he was important too.

They'd been right on the edge of it.She'd seen him looking at her, seen his gaze dark, deeper when he looked at her.Saw the way he would flush, his eyes would dart to her lips.His clumsy attempts at compliments.

And then Harry had gone missing, and nothing else had mattered.

But now?Now there was nothing holding them back from tumbling over that edge.And as terrified as she was of change, of the unknown, Hermione thought that she would be able to handle almost anything as long as his hand was in hers.

"I'd like that," Hermione said, finally finding her voice."I haven't seen your family in ages.I know your parents will want to know that everything's well. Your mother especially."

Ron laughed.

"If my mum found out my first stop was anywhere but home, she'd skin me alive," he said with a grin."Kill me for not bringing home news of her favorite son."

Hermione grinned, but she didn't bother to deny it.Harry was the favorite, as odd as it might seem to outsiders.

"I think I'd like to see my parents," Hermione said at last.It had been...well, it had been years since she'd seen them.She wrote them faithfully, but they still thought she was in the convent.She hand't been able to tell them the truth.The lie was so much easier.But now...now things had changed.She owed them that much.

Ron caught the rock again before he turned to look at her, his blue eyes staring straight into her heart.

There was a question there. One she didn't think he would ask aloud.Ron had already taken so many of the steps that lead them to this moment. It was her turn to be brave.

"Would you come with me?" Hermione said, hoping her voice sounded more casual to his ears than it did to hers."I would love the company and..." be brave, be brave, "I want them to meet you."

"Of course," Ron said simply, sitting cross-legged on the table."Of course, Hermione.I...I want to meet them too."

The look on his face was terrified at the prospect, but it was quickly replaced by determination and resolve.Then it softened into something fond as he looked at her, reaching out to take her hands in his.

"We're going to be alright you know," Ron said. "All of us."

Hermione nodded.

"Come here," he said, leaning forward.

Their lips had only just brushed together when there was a sudden whooping noise, and Hermione turned sharply to see what it was, breaking the kiss.

There, swooping through the cavernous space of the cave at breakneck speeds, was a blur with dark hair.

Harry, it seemed, had done it.

"He's going to break his neck," Hermione said in a worried tone.

"Not if I break it first," Ron grumbled, and Hermione rolled her eyes before slapping him on the shoulder."Ow!" he said, sounding offended.

"Take this seriously!" she said, staring at the figure zooming around the cave with her heart in her throat."He could hurt himself!"

As if summoned by her words, the blur turned and headed straight for them.Hermione stared at it in terror as it seemed that Harry would crash directly into the both of them, killing them all in the process.She found herself shying against Ron instinctively, and he answered with an arm around her waist, drawing her close even as he raised a hand upwards, his brow furrowed in concentration, ready to call upon his magic to stop Harry if he needed to.

It wasn’t necessary.The blur slid to a stop right in front of them, Harry using the last of his momentum to turn sideways before smiling at them both triumphantly, his green eyes glowing.

"I did it," he said."I finally did it!"

He whooped with joy before he turned and took off once again, his laughter echoing around the cave.

"Oh," Hermione said, staring fretfully after him.

"Do you know what this means?" Ron asked her, hopping off the table to stand beside her.

"He's going to kill himself," she said mournfully.

Ron nudged her with his shoulder in silent comfort before using the arm wrapped around her shoulder to tug her even closer.

"Nah.He's reckless, yeah, but lucky too.I know he'll be fine."

Hermione turned t her, biting her lip, but the expression on his face did a great deal to soothe her nerves.

"What does it mean, then?" she asked him.

"It means that when Voldemort gets back, Harry'll ask him about the handfasting.Which means that tomorrow, we get to watch our boy get married," he said."And once that's done, you and I get to start down that road ourselves.If...if that's what you want."

"Of course that's what I want," Hermione said, her throat dry."I can't think of anything I want more."


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Handfasting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The last chapter is written but not edited, so don't fear. Hopefully this won't disappoint!
> 
> Posting this now as a birthday present to myself, so I can wake up to reviews tomorrow morning to start the day out right :)

The moon was high and full in the sky when Voldemort returned, his kill clutched in his claws. He'd hunted for himself first, knowing that his little pest would worry otherwise. After that, he'd set himself to the task of provisioning his pest and his pest's treasures. He was still struggling to find the appropriate balance for them. Still, it was growing harder and harder to leave Harry behind, even for necessities such as hunting. No matter how hard he fought his instincts, he knew. He had a mate who was waiting for him A willing one. It would be so simple to reach out and take…but no. His mate was still testing him, and so he must be patient.

But soon, his blood whispered to him, his magic tugging gently at the strong bond that already tied them together. Soon he would be able to claim his mate for true.

It was time to begin to prepare for seclusion. To stockpile those foods he would need so that they could remain together without pesky hunting interfering for as long as possible.

But that could wait. For now, he had a pest to see to. He could not fathom being away any longer.

Voldemort spotted the mountain in the distance, and he sped up, eager to present his prize to Harry. He circled the mountain once, twice, before carefully folding his wings to fly through the small crag, flaring them as soon as he was through to catch the air, slowing him.

Voldemort surveyed his den as he descended, letting out a pleased rumble as he made his way to the heart of the mountain. From the entrance, he could see his entire hoard spread out before him. Gold. Vast piles of it everywhere, reaching towards the top of the cavern. Not just gold. Precious metals, jewels, and countless other valuables. He could feel the magic thick in the air, that of his spells and Harry's woven together. Underneath that, the hint of the magic contained within the enchanted artifacts he'd collected over the decades.

His most valuable treasures, however, were in the center of the mountain.

The central chamber, the largest, was not coated with precious metals and jewels like the rest. Instead, the floor of the cave was covered with rich carpets from far away lands, made of the finest materials, in patterns of green and gold. Those portions of the wall not taken by bookshelves were covered in tapestries and paintings, depictions of Voldemort's triumphs in battle and the stories of the dragons.

In the center of it all was the nest. Furs, thick quilts, the finest silks and other comforts, all gathered together. A place of comfort for both him and his intended.

It was this center space that filled Voldemort's heart with satisfaction. Not his den. No, this was their den. Their hoard. Nowhere was Harry's influence stronger than in this central space.

His eyes found his intended the moment he entered the cave, and he immediately found himself zeroed in on the look on his beloved's face. There was a happiness there, a contentedness that had been missing for many weeks now. Whatever it was that had plagued his mate so had been resolved, and Voldemort couldn't help but flutter his wings in pleasure at the sight. Good. His mate should always be so happy, so content.

His treasures were with him, and Voldemort could smell their excitement from here.

Something had happened.

He beat his wings that much harder, dropping the carcasses carelessly somewhere within his liar before landing in front of the trio, staring at them with narrowed eyes. What was it that had them all so joyful? What had they discovered?

Before he could voice his questions, Harry was there, wrapping his arms around his muzzle. Voldemort hesitated for only a moment before shifting to take human form, enveloping Harry in his arms, eagerly accepting the kiss Harry offered the moment the transition was complete. Only when his human form began to respond did he pull away, fighting the urge to huff in frustration.

As a dragon, things were rather straightforward. When it was time, his penis was released from within him, and he could mount his chosen mate before retracting it once more. Straightforward and simple.

In human form, the reactions were much more complicated. The first time he'd transformed, he'd been confused. How did humans penetrate one another with something so limp? And why was it exposed at all times, leaving them so vulnerable? None of it made any sense. But then he'd set eyes on Harry again, seen his bright green eyes, his red lips, taken in the small sliver of skin between his tunic and his breeches while he slept, and suddenly things had begun to change.

The human penis had inflated, growing in both length and girth as it went from flaccid to something more sturdy. It had changed color as well, turning from the same color as the rest of the vulnerable flesh that covered him to a shade somewhere between red and purple.

More useful than before, yes. But incredibly odd, and sensitive as well, He had been decidedly uncomfortable until it had finally subsided.

He'd made a study of human arousal since then, researching as much as he could and experimenting on his own form to see what was true and what was false. As odd and strange as he found the human body, it was the shape he would need to assume to be intimate with his mate. Voldemort would not risk hurting him during their time together.

He was familiar enough now with male anatomy that he was confident he could make their time together pleasurable for Harry.  He would accept nothing less.  A mate's pleasure was the most prized treasure within a dragon's hoard, and Voldemort was greedy for it like nothing else in his life.

But his human skin, bare as it was, had grown flushed at the feeling of the hard lines of Harry's body pressed so close, the feel of his skin under Voldemort's fingertips.  The taste of him on his tongue.  The smell of his arousal sparking the fire deep within Voldemort.  And his human body had responded.

Clothes suddenly made a great deal more sense then they had before.  With a frustrated growl, he summoned his usual human garb with an outstretched hand and clothed himself with a quick swell of his magic.  Then he reached forward once more, determined to claim his mate-to-be once more.  A hand on his chest stopped him, and it was only the expression on Harry's face that kept him from snarling in frustration.

"Thank you," Harry said, reaching forward and wrapping his arms around Voldemort once more, nestled against Voldemort's chest where he fit perfectly, no matter what form the dragon wore. Thank you so much for what you've done for me. for finding them. For taking care of us all. But Ron and Hermione need to leave now, now that we've reconnected. Will you take them home?"

Voldemort eyed his mate suspiciously. It was a trick. A trap. A test of his determination and cunning by his intended. What else could it be, after all? No dragon would go to such lengths to recover treasure only to let it *walk away*. It was against their very nature.

*But Harry*, he reminded himself, *is not a dragon. Is it not the way of humans, to hold their kin close yet allow them to leave you?*

Voldemort didn't understand it. Truly, he didn't. If he had kin of his own, he would keep them with him always, defend them with everything he had.

One day he would, sheltering the hatchlings and kits he and Harry would create together. They would need their own territory as they grew, but Voldemort would ensure that it was within his own. That their layers were nearby, and that they knew that their nest would be their nest always.

It was the way of his kind. Slytherins might drive off humans and other dragons, but other Slytherins were kept close. Family most of all.

He hadn't realized how alone he was until the possibility of that loneliness being alleviated had been presented.

But Harry's kin were human, his treasures who wanted freedom, and Harry who was kindhearted enough to give it to them.

Voldemort nodded.

"I will take them wherever it is they wish to go," he said, even as part of him raged against the idea.

Ah. There was the test. His dragon nature and Harry's human. To find balance would be a challenge. Harry was challenging him to accept his humanity, just as he had accepted Voldemort's draconic nature.

It was a challenge he would not fail. Not when the rewards were so great.

"Before they go, there's something I want them here for," Harry said. Voldemort could smell his excitement and anxiety and desire mixing into a heady cocktail, and he couldn't' resist the urge to nuzzle closer, drawing in as many great lungfuls of that scent as he could.

"Anything, Harry," Voldemort promised him rashly, meaning every word. "Anything you desire, and I will make it yours. You must only speak of it, and I shall make it so."

"I want to bind myself to you in the human way," Harry said with a smile. "And I want them to bear witness."

\---

"It's a simple ceremony," Hermione said."Simple but beautiful.Ron and I will officiate, serving as your bonders.We'll ask you to swear each other a series of promises and your magic will wrap around each other as a sign of the bond.Muggles use cloth to try and represent the magic, but for the two of you your magic will take over," the girl gushed.

Voldemort ignored her as best he could, focusing instead on his reflection in the mirror, eyeing it critically.The doublet he wore was made of acromantulasilk, dyed a rich purple color.The rings on his finger, the gems around his neck all sparkled pleasingly in the light.The cloak he wore was rich, lined with demiguise fur from an animal he'd hunted himself.His breeches were made of the hide of the last dragon who’d dared to encroach on his territory.It was the most ostentatious human outfit he owned, and he wore it very well.But was it enough?

He caught the eyes of the girl in the mirror and she gave him an encouraging smile.

"You look very handsome," she said."I'm certain that Harry won't be able to take his eyes off of you."

He could smell her amusement, but he didn't care.Everything needed to be perfect.Everything.Voldemort would not settle for anything less than the strongest possible bond between them.And if that meant indulging in as many human rituals as possible, that was precisely what he would do.And he would do them perfectly.

"It's time," Hermione said.

With one last look at his reflection, Voldemort nodded.He turned his back on the mirror and stepped once more into the heart of his nest.The heart of their nest.

Hermione had tried to argue that the ceremony should take place outdoors, beneath the light of the moon to provide more energy for the ritual.Voldemort had vetoed the idea.As a dragon, the source of his power was the heart of his hoard.It was where he would claim his mate when the time came, calling on the ritual power of centuries of effort to bind them together, to create something lasting and unbreakable.That same power would be more than enough now.

Still, he wasn't a fool.He would take whatever advantages he could get.A concentrated effort had turned a broad swath of the rock above them clear, clear enough that the light of the full moon shown into the chamber below, bathing the heart of his hoard in tlight.

It was here that they would be bonded.

As he walked towards the beam of moonlight, Voldemort's keen eyes picked out movement on the other side.Harry, he knew.Certain to be as breathtaking as ever.But Voldemort wasn't prepared for what he would feel when Harry stepped into the moonbeam.

The light from above reflected in his hair, making it look as if it was glowing.He was clad in all of Voldemort's gifts, but that was not all.He had seen fit to adorn himself with whatever he wanted from Voldemort's hoard.

A hoard he considered his own.

Voldemort's blood roared in his vein.For his intended to think of Voldemort's treasure as his own...it made his magic singing, swelling across the bond with emotions he didn't have words for, so overpowering they were.

He crossed the space between them as quickly as he dared, reaching forward to grab Harry, only to stop short.He stared, drinking in the sight of him, a low rumble of satisfaction escaping through his human throat.

Harry said nothing, but the look on his face was answer enough.Instead, he merely held up his hands, palms facing towards Voldemort and fingers spread wide.

With trembling hands, Voldemort reached forward and pressed his own human hands against Harry's own, tangling their fingers together the way their magic tangled in their bond.His throat was tight and his throat burned the way it did before he breathed fire, yet in this form he couldn't feel it burning within him.This was something else.

"Tom Riddle," Harry said, his eyes bright, his magic an almost tangible force between them."Voldemort the fearsome, the last of the Slytherins.Will you bind yourself to me?"

"I will," Voldemort answered at once, feeling the way his magic jumped in response.Perhaps their courting rituals were not so very different after all."Harry James Potter, will you bind yourself to me?"

"Yes," Harry answered simply.

Then the other humans stepped forward, one at each side. 

They each held a wand, and as one they rested them against the place where Voldemort's hand joined Harry's.

It was Hermione who spoke first.

"Harry," she began, her voice strong, "will you share in Voldemort's pain and seek to alleviate it?"

"I will."

"Voldemort," she said."Will you share in Harry's pain and seek to alleviate it?"

"I will," Voldemort said, and he could taste the magic in the air.

"And so the binding is made," she declared.

As the words passed her lips, Voldemort tasted in them something olde, ancient.The power of words that had been spoken centuries before, would e be spoken centuries later.Ritual that stretched through time, and called upon a magic powerful enough to do so.A ribbon of power slid from her wand and wrapped around their hands, tying them together, the magic it that formed it powerful enough that it glowed gold.

"Harry," Ron said, and Voldemort's attention turned from the magic towards him."Will you share in Voldemort's laughter and look for the brightness in him?"

"I will."

"Voldemort, will you share in Harry's laughter and look for the brightness in him?"

"I will."

A ribbon slid from Ron's wand, somehow even more powerful than the first.Voldemort could taste the magic from here.

And so it went, back and forth between the two.They swore to share each other's burdens and dreams, to use their anger to temper the strength of their bond.And then the two humans pushed their hands together until left was pressed against right.

"Will you honor Voldemort as an equal in this union?" the asked in one voice.

"I will," Harry said, his green eyes flashing.

"Will you honor Harry as an equal in this union?" they again asked together.

"I will," Voldemort promised.

"And so the binding is made!" they cried.

The ribbon that formed was stronger and more intricate than any of the others, and wound around the four hands, tying them together in a knot that would be impossible to escape. They glowed brighter and brighter until they were almost overwhelming, the power within them blinding all of Voldemort's senses.

And then they sank inwards, through their skin, through their magic, and into the bond itself. Strengthening it to the point where for a moment Voldemort was not sure where he ended and Harry began. His sense of self returned, but not at the expense of his sense of Harry. He could feel everything the human felt, could taste the edges of his thoughts.No words, just sensations, flickering images.The kind of communication they could manage with great concentration before.

 _Harry?_ Voldemort sent tentatively through their bond.

The last mated pair who'd been able to communicate with their thoughts the way he was attempting now had been the last Monarchs of Dragon kind.It was a bond spoken of in hushed voices, venerated in legend.A story, nothing more.Something that filled the heads of young kits who didn't know any better.

And yet here he was.Sending a message to Harry as if he were no more than a few decades old.

Harry made him young.Made him foolish.

 _Tom_ Harry answered, and through the bond Voldemort could feel his wonder, his delight, as acutely as if it were his own.

It stunned him.Not since Ilzrarth and her mate Jaydacra had there been a connection like this.Not since the days before man, when dragons roamed the earth, their magic pure and wild and intense.Not since the dragon Rythanon had killed one of Hectate's chosen.

Voldemort felt love rise within him.It was as great as it was terrible, consuming him entirely.Fierce and possessive, protective and tender, the desire to own and to be owned in turn.To wind the two together so tightly that there would be no untangling them.Until he didn't know where he ended and Harry began.To carry Harry inside him always, to leave a piece of himself within Harry.Fierce and terrible and beautiful.Love, as only a dragon could experience it.

The feeling threatened to overwhelm him, and so he did the only thing he could do.He sent it racing down the bond, drawing the string between them tighter,weaving the depth of his feelings into the very fabric of the connection between them.

Nothing would break this.Nothing would take Harry from him.

Voldemort wouldn’t let it.


	6. Mating

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Mating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We earn our explicit rating this chapter, so reader beware! Also, it's been a long time since I've written smut, so be kind, please. I hope it isn't too disappointing.
> 
> Thank you all so much for all your kind words throughout this process. This wouldn't exist without all your support and enthusiasm.

Harry stood at the lip edge of the small crag that led into the hear to of the mountain where he and tom had made their home, staring at Ron and Hermione and trying not to let his emotions overwhelm him.They'd been his pillars for so long, his first touchstones.The last year without them had been hellish.It hadn't been like missing a piece of himself.He was whole on in his own.But there had been a deep loneliness he hadn't understood until he'd met them.His first and truest friends.Without them in his life, it would always feel more empty than it should.To turn them away now was harder than he'd thought possible.

Only the feeling of Tom deep in his mind, anchoring him, gave him the strength to let them go. Tom wasn't a replacement. The affection for Tom was entirely different.Deeper, richer.But no less strong.He would always want them in his life.But there were things he needed to handle first.

"Safe travels," he said, wrapping his arms around Hermione."I'll scry you when I get the chance, okay?"

"You'd better," she ordered him, her eyes watery."Least you could do after everything you've put us through."

She pulled away only hesitate for a moment before practically tackling him again.

"I'm so happy for you, Harry," she said."So happy.You deserve this."

"So do you," Harry said, glancing meaningfully at Ron and watching as her cheeks flushed."Go.Figure out who you two are without me, alright?"

Because it had always been the three of them.Always, since the beginning.They needed the time and space to figure out who they were together, without him there.Needed to know what it was like to be more.Just like he and Tom needed time to make sure everything was stable.They would always have each other.Their friendship would always be necessary.But there were other important relationships now. Ones that needed attention to flourish.Their bond was solid. It was time to focus on the others.

Ron was next, and it was easier with him, for all that Harry's emotions still threatened to choke him.

“Come home soon,” Ron said.“Mum’ll have my head otherwise.”

Then he wrapped Harry in a tight hug, clapping him on the shoulder before he walked over and climbed clumsily onto Tom’s back.

"I'll manage to get back down on my own," Harry assured Tom as the dragon gave him a critical look."That's what we put the passages in for, isn't it?"

God, that had been a fight.Tom had rebelled at the thought of the warren of tunnels Harry had insisted on, insisting that they compromised their safety.Harry had maintained that the height alone to get to the crag was security enough.Anyone who, by some miracle, managed to make it that far, would be no more deterred by the climb down.

The row had devolved until Harry had accused Tom of making him exchange one prison for another.It had taken two days of simmering resentment before Tom, looking cowed, had led Harry to the passages he'd made, looking like a kicked dog.

Up but not down. That had been the agreement they'd settled on.Enough for Harry to have the wind on his face, feel the sun shining, breath the fresh air.But not enough to compromise their safety.

"Stay safe, my pest," Tom ordered him, red eyes shining, and as ridiculous as it seemed to him, Harry could sense exactly how deeply his unease ran at the thought of leaving him alone.Exactly how hard Tom was fighting against his instincts to do what Harry had asked.

"I will," Harry promised him."Go," he said, leaning forward to press a kiss to one of the scales between Tom's nostrils."The sooner you leave, the sooner you can return."

Tom would take them to Camelot, they'd all agreed eventually.It was true that he could have gotten them to the Weasley homestead in a matter of hours, but to be so far from Harry would have put tom in a disastrous mood.One that would be bad for any who dared to delay him.So it had been Camelot instead.

After all, Tom had been willing to travel that far before.And it was only fair that he return them to where he'd snatched them from to start with.

They wouldn't make it that far.Through their bond, it wouldn't take Tom long to figure out what he was doing. Especially not since the deepening their hand-fasting had brought about.The moment he knew, he would dump his passengers and turn around.His instincts would demand nothing less.He had to prove himself worthy, after all, to succeed in this last test.

One hour, Harry decided, his magic singing under his skin in answer to his excitement, sparks feeling like they were tracing their way up and down his back as anticipation took root.One hour, and then he would fly.One hour, and then Tom would chase him.

Tom's red eyes narrowed, but Harry easily distracted him with the leftover energy coursing through him from the ritual and his eagerness for Tom to return.

Placated, Tom sent his magic humming along the bond, feeling to Harry like a quick brush of lips against his own before he turned and took flight, Ron and Hermione sitting on his back.

"Safe travels!" he called to them.

The waved at him as Tom darted through the sky, his intimidating form stark against the orange background of the setting sun.Harry watched until Ron and Hermione's forms blended into Tom's own, the massive bulk of his body growing smaller and smaller until he could only make out the smallest speck.

Taking a deep breath, Harry did his best to center himself.These would be the crucial moments.He needed to do what he could to keep Tom from catching on as long as possible. And to do that, he needed to stay calm.

He settled down on the hard stone and closed his eyes, deepening his breathing and reaching deep inside himself.

The bond was the first thing he saw, and it had changed so much his eyes flew open in surprise.The last time he had examined it, it had been strong.He'd known that much.A sturdy rope, thousands of small strands wound together to create something stronger, greater than the whole, his magic and Tom's magic intertwined.

There was no more intertwining.No more tangling, no more rope.Just a bright, breathtaking channel between the two of them, a river of light and magic that rushed both ways.

All traces of his magic were gone, as were Tom's.This wasn't a mix of the two.This was _their_ magic, something new.Like copper and tin forged together to make bronze.Stronger and more flexible than either of the raw materials had been.

Trembling, Harry reached for what had once been his, tried to connect to the core of himself where his magic had once lived.But there was nothing there.Just a reservoir where what he and Tom had created together pooled, fed by the bond that connected them.

Trembling, Harry opened his eyes.He'd been changed.Transformed.But was that not what two people did to each other?Wasn't that what he'd always wanted?Someone to _share_ things with.To be connected to.And he'd been given exactly that.

"Thank you, Hectate," he said simply, his eyes filled with tears."Thank you, mother magic, for this great gift you have given me.I will do what I can to honor it."

Taking a deep breath, Harry stood, wiping the tears from his eyes.It was time.It had been less than an hour, the sky still a deep purple rather than the pure black he had been waiting for, and only a handful of stars blinking back at him from above.But the constellation he needed most was there.Ilzrarth & Jaydacra.The Lovers.The first mated pair.

Taking a deep breath, Harry mounted his broom.He closed his eyes and stood there, on the edge, letting the wind wash over him.Listening to it roar through his ears, feeling his magic under his fingertips.Could feel Tom under his skin, as close as his own heart.

Opening his eyes, he pushed his magic into the broom beneath him and rocketed into the air.

It was just as exhilarating as it had been the first time. Air rushed through his hair, his robes whipping out behind him.It was wonderful. The only thing missing was Tom.

As if the thought had been a signal, Harry felt Tom through their bond.A sense of curiosity as he reached out.Then alarm as he took in exactly what Harry was feeling and recognized it for what it was.

 _Harry?_ he said, his voice a low growl even in this shared space between them. _What are you doing?_

 _Flying_.

 _Go back!_ Tom ordered him, and Harry felt the phantom sensation of a tail thrashing.

 _Make me_ Harry said with a grin.And then he closed the mental connection between the two of them, racing forward.

He could feel it, the moment Tom understood.The second that his fear and irritation shifted to something else entirely, a roaring desire so deep and intense that it nearly knocked Harry off his broom.

 _Mine_ his thoughts roared at Harry. _You are mine, and I will claim you for all the world to see._

 _You'll have to catch me first_ Harry sent back, and then he pushed the broom even farther, even faster, feeding it directly from his magic as he soared through the sky, his laughter trailing behind him.

He felt ever flap of Tom's wings as if they were his own.Felt how each stroke shrank the distance between them that much more.Felt the surge of triumph when Tom was finally close enough to see him, the driving need to catch Harry, to pin him down and drag him back to the layer, to pull him into the center of the nest and show him for true who he belonged to.

Harry grinned.After everything Tom had put him through, he was going to make the dragon work for it.

He didn't know how long it lasted, the dance they had in the sky.Twirling and twining around each other, flying circles through the air.Every step he took was answered and mirrored.His exhilaration and arousal mixed with Tom's to create something heady, intoxicating.Harry never wanted it to end, pushing his broom faster and further than it was ever meant to go, the enchantment burned to a crisp as he powered it with the strength of his magic alone.

It wasn't until he saw the familiar mountain that he realized what had happened.Tom, clever Tom, had been herding him.Every time Harry had danced away from those snapping jaws with a laugh, every sharp turn he had made had taken him that much closer to the home they would share.

It was time.

Harry put on a final burst of speed, driving towards the surface of the crystal reflecting in the moonlight, his magic burning the broom to ash in his hands until suddenly he wasn’t flying, he was falling.

Harry spread his arms wide and smiled, feeling the air whistling past his face.He wasn’t worried.Tom would catch him.

Tom would always catch him.

There was a mighty roar, filled with triumph, the same roar Harry had heard all those weeks ago when they’d finally been free.One of victory.Of triumph. Of joy.

Then familiar claws closed around him, cradling him delicately, and Harry fell onto Tom’s warm palms, the heat racing straight from Tom’s scales and into his cock.With a groan, he shifted, pawing at himself through his trousers, pressing his palm against his stiff cock and groaning.His arousal was nearly unbearable.Tom’s, scorching through the bond, had him burning.

There was a shattering noise, a whistling, and then a sudden jerk as Tom’s flight suddenly slowed to a stop.Before Harry’s lust-addled brain could make sense of any of it the world shifted sharply again, the clawed hands surrounding him vanishing to be replaced by a familiar human form pinning him down, red eyes blazing brighter than he’d ever seen them before.

Harry was vaguely aware of furs and cushions beneath his back, but there were other things that captured his attention. Namely the hardness pressed up against his thigh.With a low moan, he shifted, pressing himself up against it, desperate for pressure, for friction, _anything_.

The growl that escaped Tom wasn’t human.There was nothing human in him now except his skin.His thoughts and emotions were a foreign tangle, the only thing that Harry understood was the desire, stoking his own need even higher.

“Please,” he said, arching up again, “Tom, _please_.”

Tom snarled, and Harry only had a moment to gasp at the sensation of cold air against his naked flesh as his clothes vanished before Tom was there, skin on skin, pressing Harry down into the pile of silks and furs beneath him as he plundered his mouth the way he had once plundered villages.This was naked animal desire, pure and simple.

There would be no tenderness.Not this time.

Harry didn’t want tenderness.He wanted Tom.All of him.Every draconic inch, pressed deep inside him until he didn’t know where he ended and Tom began.Wanted that desire washing through him, setting every nerve on fire.Wanted their shared magic wrapped around both of them, coursing through them as they became as close physically as two separate beings could be. Wanted the taste of copper and fire in his mouth, the sharp sting of teeth n his neck, the tang of blood in the air as Tom claimed him in the most base, primitive way.He wanted Tom to stake his claim on Harry as Harry staked his claim on him.

No tenderness.Just raw need.Want.

And he wanted it now.

He wrapped his legs around Tom’s waist and rubbed his length against the hard panes of his stomach in silent invitation.He wrapped his legs around Tom’s waist and rubbed his length against the hard planes of his stomach in silent invitation. Tom growled into his mouth, his hands falling from Harry's wrists, scraping down his body in a way that made Harry groan. Then he lifted Harry's legs over his arms, exposing him entirely.

Harry barely had enough presence of mind to whisper the spell to ease the way before Tom was there, the blunt edge of his cock pressed against the edge of entrance for a moment that seemed to stretch forever.

And then Tom drove into him, sinking deep with one strong thrust.

Harry gasped, scrabbling against Tom's back, his head thrown back as he cried out. He could feel every inch of him inside, feeling as if Tom's cock was driving deeper and deeper with each thrust, pain and pleasure mixed together so thoroughly Harry couldn't tell them apart.

Then Tom's cock slid against something deep inside him and a bolt of pleasure struck him, harder and faster than anything he'd ever managed alone. Tom only pressed deeper, harder, his cock hammering over the spot that made him gasp over and over again.

Harry dug his nails even harder into Tom's back, sweat-slick skin leaving him scrabbling for a grip. He arched to meet every thrust, desperate to have Tom deeper, desperate for some friction against his aching cock.

Tom rose up even further, driving his cock even deeper as he shifted Harry's legs over his shoulders. Harry threw back his head and cried out, teetering on the edge of being completely overwhelmed.  Then Tom's hand closed around his swollen cock, pumped him once, twice, three times, growling low in his ear, and Harry shattered apart completely.

He could feel the echoes of Tom's pleasure through the bond between them, could feel a pressure like fire building inside Tom, stoked higher with each thrust. Tom's mouth found Harry's neck, his teeth lightly pressing against the skin there, and then, with one final thrust, his climax erupted through them both as his teeth sank into Harry's flesh.

There were no words for what happened then. The physical sensations, even as intense as they were, were entirely subsumed by what happened within.

The moment Tom's teeth broke his skin, the magic of the bond rose before roaring over him. Memories swept over him, of life in the dark, calling out for someone but finding no answer.The stench of rotting flesh that hit his nose with his first breath, discovering two corpses, one human and one dragon.The human was nothing but cloth and bones, but her magic had left his mother untouched by time.Grief, terrible grief his first emotion as he nosed at her, trying to discover why she wouldn't wake.Grief soon replaced by rage, when humans screamed at the sight of him.Called him monster and tried to kill him.

A terrible rage had been born that day.A loathing for all things human that had lingered for centuries.One that had lasted until he'd looked into eyes more beautiful than emeralds, and felt his heart soften, his rage waver.

Centuries of life, of knowledge, of emotions and memories, washed over him all at once. Tom's memories so powerful and foreign that he thought he might drown in them. But then it was over the last of Tom's memories faded, and Harry was himself again, clutching onto Tom for dear life and gasping for breath.

Tom recovered first, pushing himself up on trembling arms, staring down at Harry with a look of wonder on his face that echoed through their bond.

"Harry," he said, his voice hoarse, red eyes wet with tears.  "My Harry."

He reached out with a trembling hand and brushed it against the mark on Harry's neck, and Harry cried out as it sent a rush of pleasure through him.

"My mate," he growled possessively.  "Mine.  Now and forever."

"Yours," Harry agreed, feeling the magic thrum continently between them, rumbling the way tom did when Harry stroked the scales of his muzzle, "Your Tom.  And you're mine."

If the mating had done one thing, it had been that.  Harry had known Tom cared for him, but the true depth of his regard was nearly incomprehensible.  There was nothing Tom would not do for him if Harry asked it.  It was love.  A deep and terrible love, consuming and full of greed.  The kind of love that could only belong to a dragon.

The kind of love Harry had craved all his life.

"You and me," Harry said, his voice filled with awe.  "Always."

There was nothing he or anyone else could do to take this from him.  For the first time in his life, Harry was certain in the knowledge that there was someone he could rely on no matter what.

“Always," Tom agreed, his smile as red as his mouth.  "And forever."

Harry leaned up and licked his blood from Tom's mouth. 

Forever.  The years stretching out almost unendingly before them.  Humans living and dying, generations passing by.  And through it all, the two of them.  Together.Always.

Maybe, just maybe, it would be long enough.


End file.
